Larry liked the days and days of this work, although the farther he went the worse did the tangle seem. It was the kind of work for which his faculties fitted him, and this was his first chance to use his faculties upon large affairs in an honest way. Thus far his work was all diagnostic; cure, construction, would not come until later--and perhaps Miss Sherwood would not trust him with such affairs. This investigation, this checking up, involved no risk on her part as she had frankly told him. The other would: it would mean at least partial control of property, the handling of funds. Miss Sherwood had many sessions with him; she was interested, but she confessed herself helpless in this compilation and diagnosis of so many facts and figures. Dick was prompt enough to report his stock transactions, and he was eager enough to discuss the probable fluctuation of this or that stock; but when asked to go over what Larry had done, he refused flatly and good-humoredly to “sit in any such slow, dead game.” “If my Solomon-headed sister is satisfied with what you're doing, Captain Nemo, that's good enough for me,” he would say. “So forget that stuff till I'm out of sight. Open up, Captain--what do you think copper is going to do?” “I wish you could be put on an operating-table and have your speculative streak knifed out of you, Dick. That oil stock you bought the other day--why, a blind man could have seen it was wild-cat. And you were wiped out.” “Oh, the best of 'em get aboard a bad deal now and then.” “I know. But I've been tabulating all your deals to date, and on the total you're away behind. Better leave the market absolutely alone, Dick, and quit taking those big chances.” “You've got to take some big chances, Captain Nemo”--Dick had clung to the title he had lightly conferred on Larry the morning he had come in to apologize--“or else you'll never make any big winnings. Besides, I want a run for my money. Just getting money isn't enough. I want a little pep in mine.” Larry saw that these talks on the unwisdom of speculation he was giving Dick were not in themselves enough to affect a change in Dick. Mere words were colorless and negative; something positive would be required. Larry hesitated before he ventured upon another matter he had long considered. “Excuse my saying it, Dick. But a man who's trying to do as much in a business way as you are, particularly since it's plain speculation, can't afford to go to after-theater shows three times a week and to late suppers the other four nights. Two and three o'clock is no bedtime hour for a business man. And that boot-legged booze you drink when you're out doesn't help you any. I know you think I'm talking like a fossilized grand-aunt--but all the same, it's the straight stuff I'm handing you.”