Calderwell smiled appreciatively.

``You _can_ sing like the devil,'' he admitted.

``Thanks,'' returned his friend, with uplifted
eyebrows. ``Do you mind calling it `an angel'
--just for this occasion?''

``Oh, the matine-girls will do that fast enough.
But, I say, Arkwright, what are you going to do
with those initials then?''

``Let 'em alone.''

``Oh, no, you won't. And you won't be `Mary
Jane,' either. Imagine a Mary Jane in Grand
Opera! I know what you'll be. You'll be `Seor
Martini Johnini Arkwrightino'! By the way,
you didn't say what that `M. J.' really did stand
for,'' hinted Calderwell, shamelessly

`` `Merely Jokes'--in your estimation,
evidently,'' shrugged the other. ``But my going
isn't a joke, Calderwell. I'm really going. And
I'm going to work.''

``But--how shall you manage?''

``Time will tell.''