"Eleven people bought it!" corrected the author.

"We will put it in a paper cover and sell it for fifty cents,"
cried Dolly. " It's the best detective story I ever read, and
people have got to know it is the best. So we'll advertise it like
a breakfast food."

"The idea," interrupted Champneys, "is to make money, not throw it
away. Besides, we haven't any to throw away. Dolly sighed bitterly.

"If only," she exclaimed, "we had that three thousand dollars back
again! I'd save SO carefully. It was all my fault. The races took
it, but it was I took you to the races."

"No one ever had to drag ME to the races," said Carter. " It was
the way we went that was extravagant. Automobiles by the hour
standing idle, and a box each day, and----"

"And always backing Dromedary," suggested Dolly. Carter was touched
on a sensitive spot. "That horse," he protested loudly, "is a
mighty good horse. Some day----"

"That's what you always said," remarked Dolly, "but he never seems
to have his day."

"It's strange," said Champneys consciously. "I dreamed of Dromedary
only last night. Same dream over and over again." Hastily he
changed the subject.