mingling of incredulity and affront--and coughed.

"Say," he inquired grimly, "what's the answer?"

Doc Madison took his arm from Helena's waist, pulled a newspaper from
his pocket, spread it out on the table--and his manner changed
suddenly--enthusiasm was in his eyes, his voice, his face.

"I've steered you three through a few deals," said he impressively,
"that have sized up big enough to keep you out of the raw vaudeville
turn you, Harry, and you, Flopper, are so fond of, and that would have
put Helena here on easy street, if you hadn't blown in all you got about
ten minutes after you got your hands on it--but I've got one here that
sizes up so big you wouldn't be able to spend the money fast enough to
close out your bank account if you did your damnedest! Get that? It's
the greatest cinch that ever came down from the gateway of heaven--and
that's where it came from--heaven. It couldn't have come from anywhere
else--it's too good. And it's new, bran new--it's never had the string
cut or the wrapper taken off. It's got anything that was ever run beaten
by more laps than there are in the track, and it's got a purse tied on
to the end of it that's the biggest ever offered since Adam. But you've
got to work for it, and that's what I brought you here for to-night--to
learn your little pieces so's you can say 'em nice and cute when you get
up on the platform before the audience."

The Flopper's tongue made a greedy circuit of his upper and under lips,
and he hitched his chair closer to the table.

A flush spread over Pale Face Harry's cheeks, and his eyes, abnormally
bright, grew brighter.