dock. "But I know now it wasn't a clever idea, if this woman can think of it, too."
"What did you tell her?"
"I was shocked. I showed it. It seemed deception to me. Still—she made me an offer that—well, I told her I'd think it over."
"Good heavens, Jack! You wouldn't try to sell 'em both dialogue?"
"Why not? Play one against the other—make 'em keener for my goods. I've got a notion to clean up here quick and then go back to the real stuff. That little girl from the Middle West—I've forgot all about her, of course. But speaking of cleaning up—I'm thinking of it, Dick, my boy. Yes, I believe I'll take them both on—secretly, of course. It means hard work for me, but when one loves one's art, no service seems too tough."
"You're hopeless," Minot groaned.
"Say not so," laughed Paddock, and went away humming a frivolous tune.
At a quarter before seven, for the first time, Minot entered Mr. Tom Stacy's Manhattan Club and Grill. To any one who crossed Mr. Stacy's
