This was an exceptionally generous offer on Mr. Wallingford's part, particularly as the six hundred dollars he had in his pocket was all the capital he controlled in the world. In justice to him, however, it must be said that he expected to have more money--shortly. The prospects seemed good. They looked him over. Twenty-five thousand, fifty thousand, a hundred thousand dollars; it was easy to see that the gentleman could supply any or all of these sums at a moment's notice. "No!" said Jens Jensen, voicing the suddenly eager sentiment of all. "We're all going in it, and another man." "Two other men," corrected Carl. "Doctor Feldmeyer and Emil Kessler." Otto Schmitt shook his head dubiously. "Emil owes on his building loan," he observed. "Emil's coming in," firmly repeated Carl Klug. "He is a friend of mine. I will lend him the money and he pays me when we sell out." Mr. Wallingford glanced out of the window at the shining cab and smiled. With business people like these he felt that he could get on. "When, then, do we form the partnership?" he asked. "To-morrow!" Jens promptly informed him. "We all put in what money we want to, and we take out according to what we put in." Jens, who had condemned Mr. Wallingford at sight as a "skinner," now kept as close to him as possible, and beamed up at him all the time; one cordial handshake from the man of millions had won him over. "Carl," he suggested, "you must take Mr. Wallingford over to the cellar." "Oh, we all go there," said big Otto Schmitt, and they all laughed, Carl more than any of them. "Come on," he said. Right at the side of the shop stood Mr. Klug's brick house, in the midst of a big garden that was painfully orderly. Every tree was whitewashed to exactly the same height, and everything else that could be whitewashed glared like new-fallen snow. The walks were scrubbed until they were as red as bricks could be made, and all in between was velvet-green grass. There were flowers everywhere, and climbing vines were matted upon the porch trellises and against the entire front of the house. In the rear garden could be seen all sorts of kitchen vegetables in neat rows and beds. Down into the front basement the five men crowded and sat on rough wooden benches. Jens Jensen hastened to spread a clean newspaper on the bench where Mr. Wallingford was to sit. Carl disappeared into another part of the cellar and presently came out again with a big jug and five glasses, all of different shapes and sizes. Out of the jug he poured his best home-made wine, and they settled down for a jovial half hour, in which they admitted the guest of honor to full fellowship. "You must come over to church to-night," Jens Jensen insisted as they came away. "We have a raffle and Doctor Feldmeyer will be there. He is a swell. He will be glad to know you. There will be plenty to eat and drink. Look; you can see the church from here," and he pointed out its tall spire.