Page 12 of The Gentle Grafter


  "Well, Jeff," said I, when the Autolycan adventurer seemed to havedivulged the gist of his tale, "I hope you took care of the money.That would be a respecta--that is a considerable working capital ifyou should choose some day to settle down to some sort of regularbusiness."

  "Me?" said Jeff, virtuously. "You can bet I've taken care of that fivethousand."

  He tapped his coat over the region of his chest exultantly.

  "Gold mining stock," he explained, "every cent of it. Shares par valueone dollar. Bound to go up 500 per cent. within a year. Non-assessable.The Blue Gopher mine. Just discovered a month ago. Better get inyourself if you've any spare dollars on hand."

  "Sometimes," said I, "these mines are not--"

  "Oh, this one's solid as an old goose," said Jeff. "Fifty thousanddollars' worth of ore in sight, and 10 per cent. monthly earningsguaranteed."

  He drew out a long envelope from his pocket and cast it on the table.

  "Always carry it with me," said he. "So the burglar can't corrupt orthe capitalist break in and water it."

  I looked at the beautifully engraved certificate of stock.

  "In Colorado, I see," said I. "And, by the way, Jeff, what was thename of the little man who went to Denver--the one you and Bill met atthe station?"

  "Alfred E. Ricks," said Jeff, "was the toad's designation."

  "I see," said I, "the president of this mining company signs himselfA. L. Fredericks. I was wondering--"

  "Let me see that stock," said Jeff quickly, almost snatching it fromme.

  To mitigate, even though slightly, the embarrassment I summoned thewaiter and ordered another bottle of the Barbera. I thought it was theleast I could do.