She thought of Trenn’s brotherly letter of good-by and his handsome contribution of $300, reposing at that instant in the yellow bag that hung at her belt. Well, suppose she used “the money for Hildegarde” in a double sense. Suppose she got some stock in Hildegarde’s name. It was all my eye about Blumpitty’s wanting to help “that kind of young lady” just because she—fudge! Mrs. Mar was “from Missouri!” But it very probably _would_ help the girl with her new friends that they should look upon her as financially interested in their enterprise—should think of her obliged and grateful family as a probable source of further revenue. Odd if it were Mrs. Mar after all who should be the cause of the Mar family’s profiting by the gold discovery at Nome. But she would do nothing upon impulse. “I think I could send you two or three hundred before you sail,” she said. Mr. Blumpitty looked on the floor, and made no manner of response. “How would that do?” and she repeated the offer. “I can’t promise they’ll be any o’ the margin left by the time we sail.” “Why can’t you?” “Wa-al, I got to keep fifty-one per cent. fur myself.” She’d heard all that. “How much a share is your stock?” “It’s only $25 now. But I guess it won’t ever be as low again. This time next year—” He felt for his watch. When he saw what time it was this year, slowly he pulled his slack figure together and stood up. “You’re going to wait—” began Mrs. Mar. “I promised t’ meet a man about now.” “Somebody who wants to join your company?” said Mrs. Mar, with a pang. “I guess so.” “I _could_ take twelve shares to start with, only—” “I guess y’ better talk it over with y’ son.” Blumpitty had stooped and was feeling under the chair for his hat. “It isn’t that,” said Mrs. Mar a little sharply, for the idea of taking counsel with her son appealed to her much less now that Blumpitty recommended it. “But I’m not sure I won’t have to buy a second ticket for my daughter.” “No danger o’ that.” “And how do I know there’s a good berth left on your steamer?” “I got twenty-eight first-class accommodations. The young lady can have the pick o’ them.” He seemed to be coming slowly toward Mrs. Mar with a motion of offering his hand, whether to reassure her as to the solemnity of his given word on the subject of the berth, or in mere good-by. She arrested him with her eye. “If I get my daughter these twelve shares”—Mrs. Mar’s hand was on the yellow bag—“I do it on my own responsibility. I shall not consult my sons.” “Wa-al, it’s a good chance,” he admitted, but in the tone of one not disposed to deny that “all flesh is grass.” “I’d like your daughter to have her share. They ain’t many young ladies would want to take that journey jest to—” “You’d better make out a receipt for those twelve shares straight away, before anybody comes in and interrupts.” Mrs. Mar opened the yellow bag. Blumpitty looked vaguely at the floor. “I don’t know as I got any blanks along.”