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MAIL ORDER FRANK

preceding twenty-four hours passed vividly through Frank's mind. He felt greatly satisfied with the outcome of his visit to the city.

Then Frank began to scan the future, his plans, his ambitions. He felt truly rich with his little money capital, the present work in hand, the mail order lists, the apple corer, and other things.

"How sick that man is of his apple corer," mused Frank. "There are over five thousand of the crude, unsatisfactory things in that big box down stairs. He had a good idea all right, but didn't know how to apply it. He gave it—to—me—be—"

There Frank drifted into a doze. It was strange, but he half-dreamed, half-thought out some wonderful transformation of the hardware man's invention, and, all of a sudden, in a lightning flash, a great, surging idea swept through his brain with tremendous force.

It lifted him out of his sleep half-dazed, he gave a jump from the bed to the floor. There he wavered, rubbing his eyes, and then irresistibly shouting out:

"Eureka—I've found it!"