"Well, well, well!" he says, slappin' Hector on the back. "To think that the days of slavery is all over! No more reportin' at the ball park every day, no more spring training no more watchin' 'em hit and run. That must be great after seven years of havin' to see it and--" "Yeh!" mumbles Hector, kinda glum. He's all dressed up like a broken arm and takin' it just as hard. "Well," I says, "where will we go? We got all the shows in New York to pick from and--" "Get one that will give Mister Sells a chance to really relax and enjoy himself," says the wife. "Somethin' that will allow him to forget his former--" "Why not ask Hector?" says Alex. "Where would _you_ like to go, Mister Sells?" Hector gets up and fumbles with his hat. "Say!" he says. "Let's all go out and see the ball game, heh?" CHAPTER IV DON'T GIVE UP THE TIP! Listen! If you ever wake up some mornin' with an idea for something new--whether it's a soup, a vaudeville act or a religion--and you expect to cash on it, go to the nearest hardware store and ask the guy behind the counter how much he'll take for all the locks in the joint. Take 'em at any price and fasten 'em on the door of the safe where you keep the idea--the same bein' your mouth--and then throw the keys in any good, deep river! If the inventors of stud poker, movin' pictures, the alligator pear, pneumonia and so forth had gone around talkin' about them things before they got 'em patented they never would of took in a nickel on their idea, but their _friends_ would be draggin' down the royalties yet! The minute you tip another guy to your stunt it's yours and his both. He mightn't _mean_ to steal your stuff, but he can't help himself. The more he thinks about it, the better he likes it, and it ain't long before he gets believin' it was _his_ idea anyways and where do you get off by claimin' you thought of it? I admit freely that you can't cash on your scheme unless you get it before the world, but the thing is to wait till you got it covered with so many copyrights and patents that not even the James Boys could steal it and then _tell 'em all at once_! If Edgar Simmons had of did that, he'd be a rich millionaire to-day instead of havin' to cut his winnin's with Alex. Edgar had an idea, and he didn't know what to do with it. Alex did! The wife and I is sittin' down to the evenin' meal one night, when the telephone rings. Only one of us got up. "Hello!" I says. "Hello!" is the answer. "This is Alex. What would you say to me runnin' up there to supper to-night?" "Nothin'," I answers. "I see where they was a guy got pinched only last week for swearin' over the phone!" "Look here!" he says, kinda peeved. "Do you want me to come up there to-night or don't you?" "Don't you!" I says. "They's plenty of places where they would be glad to have me to dinner," he snarls. "Places that is just as good as yours!"