“This is simply immense,” said Frank. “I’m just bursting with vanity, or self-importance, or ambition, or something of that sort.” He briefly outlined his plans to his friends. Frank had only that day held a two hours’ consultation with John Dawes, who owned the novelty works at the edge of the town. Dawes made a specialty of manufacturing light hardware specialties. His own list embraced over two hundred articles, ranging from pocket rules to tool chests. He supplied a great many mail order people all over the country, and told Frank he would be glad to encourage a local institution. “He has given me as low a rate as any customer he has on his books, he says,” reported Frank. “Besides that, being directly on the spot, I save the freight charges, you see.” “Good,” said Bart Stirling, “you’ve struck the right location, sure.” “Mr. Dawes is going to make my apple corer and a puzzle belonging to Markham,” said Frank. “Then I have made arrangements with a dozen large city supply houses. I am going to push that harmless comical novelty, the false moustache wrinkle. I have also ordered quite a line of cheap jewelry, especially initial cuff buttons and friendship and birthday rings. I can sell at one dollar and a half a solid gold birthday ring that retailers everywhere mark at three dollars as a minimum price. Soon as I get onto all the ropes, I intend to reach out for class and fraternity emblem trade, selling on sample, and having the goods made by a city jewelry manufacturer.” “That’s it,” suddenly broke in Bob Haven to Markham, who had carelessly slipped on one of the false moustaches in question. “Heard about your talent as an entertainer.” “Yes, give us a round, Markham,” suggested Bart. Markham got up on a chair, put on Stet’s cap, applied goatee and false teeth, and soon had the audience screaming with hilarity over a very creatable representation of a stranded actor giving a monologue in a country grocery store. The party broke up with congratulatory hand shakes and all kind of good wishes for the success of Frank’s new business enterprise. When Bart and the others had gone, Frank and Markham looked about their business quarters with a proud air of satisfaction and comfort. “I tell you, Frank, those fellows are royal good friends of yours,” spoke Markham. “Yes,” said Frank with real emotion, “they have indeed given me the lift they promised me. We are of poor business material, indeed, if we cannot make this fine beginning lead to a grand success. Now then, for a genuine start in the morning. If you will act as typewriter till we can afford to hire one, I will fold a batch of our first circulars.” “Sure, I will,” said Markham readily.