“Listen, mother,” he said, “I have dreamed out an invention. Really I have. If my improved apple corer works as I think it will, this is a lucky spell of wakefulness. I don’t want to say much about it till I am sure of it, but I believe I have invented something practical and of value.” Frank treasured his little model in his pocket, and consented to go back to bed now. He was up bright and early. First thing he was down in his work shop. At breakfast he was more quiet than usual. Frank was doing a great deal of thinking. “I have certainly got the patent right bee in my bonnet,” he reflected. “It’s a fascinating little insect. Ah, Markham, we were going to let you sleep till you were rested up completely,” added Frank, as their guest put in an appearance. Markham was pleasant, polite and contented. He put some things in order for Mrs. Ismond, offered to help her with the dishes, and went downstairs finally to join Frank. “Now then,” he said briskly, “I’m fed up and rested up--what is there to do?” Frank explained about the needle packages. He told Markham as well as he could what towns in the vicinity had been covered. “There’s a row of little settlements to the east,” he explained. “You can use my bicycle if you like and give them a call.” “This is real life,” jubilated Markham, as he set off on the wheel with a hundred packages of the needles done up in a cardboard box. Frank received visits from several of his boy employes that morning. Then he set about disposing of some odds and ends of the salvage stock about town. From two till five o’clock he was busy working on his “patent.” From then until six o’clock he wrote several letters, went out and mailed them, and kept thinking and planning on the mail order business. Markham, dusty and tired, wheeled up to the store about seven o’clock. He had an immense bouquet of wild flowers, which delighted Mrs. Ismond, to whom he gracefully presented it. “What a day it has been for me,” he exclaimed, after a good wash up. “Why, I seem to be free, really free for the first time in my life--the pretty roads, the lovely flowers, the sweet singing birds--” “And the needles?” suggested practical Frank. “Oh, I sold them before noon,” said Markham, indifferently. “All of them?” “Fifteen packages to one little country store. Knocked a cent off my profit, but time counts, you know.” “I sent an order to the city for a gross of those false moustaches,” announced Frank. “You did?” exclaimed Markham. “That’s famous! When will they be here?” “Day after to-morrow, I think. Then I’m going down to Riverton to collect some bills. I calculate it will take about three days to clean up the lot. Mother, you must run the business here while I’m gone. We will have to stay at Riverton nights.” “Shall I keep on with the needles?” asked Markham. “Yes, but not here. We will make Riverton headquarters for this trip. You can come with me, and try the false moustaches on the community.”