"I wonder," said Blix, as the two skirted the Plaza, going down to
Kearney Street; "I wonder if I ought to ask him to supper?"

"Ask who--me?--how funny to--"

"I wonder if we are talked out--if it would spoil the day?"

"Anyhow, I'm going to have supper at the Club; and I've got to
write my article some time to-night."

Blix fixed him with a swift glance of genuine concern. "Don't
play to-night, Condy," she said, with a sudden gravity.

"Fat lot I can play! What money have I got to play with?"

"You might get some somewheres. But, anyhow, promise me you won't
play."

"Well, of course I'll promise. How can I, if I haven't any money?
And besides, I've got my whaleback stuff to write. I'll have
supper at the Club, and go up in the library and grind out copy
for a while."

"Condy," said Blix, "I think that diver's story is almost too good
for 'The Times.' Why don't you write it and send it East? Send it
to the Centennial Company, why don't you? They've paid some
attention to you now, and it would keep your name in their minds
if you sent the story to them, even if they didn't publish it.
Why don't you think of that?"