"While I was in London I did a bit of writing; sketches of queer places
and people and that sort of thing, and had pretty good luck selling 'em.
One fellow I know there even offered me a job paragraphing. That's like
our editorial writing, you know."

"Fine! That makes me feel easier. I was afraid you might be going soft,
with so much money to spend."

"How I ever spent that much--"

"Never mind that. It's gone. However, we'll try another basis. I'd
thought of an allowance, but I don't quite like the notion. Hal, I'm
going to give you your own money."

"My own money? I didn't know that I had any."

"Well, you have."

"Where did I get it?"

"From our partnership. From the old days on the road."

"Rather an intangible fortune, isn't it?"

"That old itinerant business was the nucleus of the Certina of to-day.
You had a profit-sharing right in that. You've still got it--in this.
Hal, I'm turning over to you to-day half a million dollars."

"That's a lot of money, Dad," said the younger man soberly.