of it—remember you're readyin' yourself for Battlin' Long. As a trainin' exercise, this egg stopped Kid Christopher at Philly last night in one round. It took you four to do the same trick. That's somethin' to think about, hey?"
"No," I says, "it ain't. I never felt better in my life and I'll lay this Long like a pavement! You're a swell manager—instead of telling me I can lick the wide, wide world you're always predicting I'm going to get knocked for a loop. It's a good thing I got plenty of this moral and don't have to look to you for none. It's as harmless as a day old infant. But I can't give you no more till I mix some up."
"Till you mix some up?" says Nate. "What's the idea?"
"I told you I invented this drink, didn't I, dumbell?" I says.
Nate sits on the end of the table and looks at me with awe and admiration.
"I thought you was kiddin'," he says. "I think you are yet, but if you ain't kiddin', you got a money maker here which will make the mint look like it's turnin' out biscuits."
"It's going to take plenty jack to properly launch this, Nate," I says, after a minute. "I'll have to go out end promote a company, probably, and sell stock and"
"I'll take ten thousand bucks worth of stock in it right now!" interrupts Nate, banging his fist on the table. "We'll canvass the town—no we won't either, we'll only let our pals in on this. Hey—mix up a
