“Guess I’m a careless business man,” he spoke at last. “That fire so discouraged me I just got out, bag and baggage. There’s some good, collectible bills here. Now then, young man,” he continued, facing squarely about on Frank, “don’t tell me you came way down here from Greenville with that stuff just out of courtesy and kindness.” “I will tell you the whole story, if you have the time to listen to it,” replied Frank. “Certainly--fire away.” Frank recited his experience with the salvage from start to finish. He wound up with the words: “You can see, sir, very plainly that I have hopes of getting those lists. I have a little money, and I will be glad to buy them.” Mr. Morton studied Frank in a pleased, interested way. “Young man,” he said, “you have acted very honorably in coming to me the way you have. As to that mail order literature, cart it away. I don’t want it. I might sell the lists, if I had the time--I haven’t--so they are yours. And, look here, these bills--I’ll give you half of what you collect on them.” “You will?” exclaimed Frank, doubly delighted. “I will gladly meet the trial for ten per cent.” “No,” insisted Mr. Morton, “there’s some expense and trouble, you not living in Riverton. You’ll have to hire a rig to visit some of my former debtors. I’ve stated the proposition. Here, I’ll write you out an authority to act as my agent.” Frank arose to leave the office half-an-hour later a satisfied and grateful boy. Mr. Morton had quizzed him considerably as to his future plans. He was down on the mail order business, for he had made a failure of it himself, but he said a good many enlightening things that at least warned Frank of the pitfalls in his business course. “Please, one more word, Mr. Morton,” said Frank, taking up his repacked suit case--“about those apple corers of yours?” “Whew!” cried his host with a wry grimace, “have I got to think of that grand flare-up again?” “There’s a lot of them, you know, among the salvage?” suggested Frank. “Yes, and there would have been a lot more if the fire hadn’t stopped returns,” declared Mr. Morton. “That was a bad investment.” “Did you patent the apple corer Mr. Morton?” asked Frank. “No--yes--my attorney filed the caveat, I believe. I don’t think we ever completed the patent transaction, and of course I shan’t throw away any more good money on it.” “I was thinking,” said Frank, “that with a little modification--improvement, you know? maybe it might be made to work satisfactorily.” Mr. Morton made such an excited jump straight towards his young visitor that Frank was rather startled. “Young man,” he said, very solemnly, “if you want me to lose all the really profound admiration I feel towards you for the business-like way in which you have managed things, don’t, for mercy’s sake, tell me that you have been bitten, too, with the fatal, crazy, irrational dream that you want to invent something!” “Why,” said Frank, with a smile, “is it as bad as that?”