girl afterward."

"And so original," she commented, quite as enthusiastic as he.

"Original?--why, it's new as paint! It's--it's--Travis, I'll make
a story out of this that will be copied in every paper between the
two oceans."

They were so interested in the mate's story that they forgot to
take a car, and walked up Clay Street talking it over, suggesting,
rearranging, and embellishing; and Condy was astonished and
delighted to note that she "caught on" to the idea as quickly as
he, and knew the telling points and what details to leave out.

"And I'll make a bang-up article out of the whaleback herself,"
declared Condy. The "idea" of the article had returned to him,
and all his enthusiasm with it.

"And look here, he said, showing her the letter from the
Centennial Company. "They turned down my book, but see what they
say.

"Quite an unusual order of merit!" cried Travis. "Why, that's
fine! Why didn't you show this to me before?--and asking you like
this to write them a novel of adventure! What MORE can you want?
Oh!" she exclaimed impatiently, "that's so like you; you would
tell everybody about your reverses, and carry on about them
yourself, but never say a word when you get a little boom. Have
you an idea for a thirty-thousand-word novel? Wouldn't that
diver's story do?"