“And he’s up to his eyes already. When I smash he smashes. And Dave Donaldson will have to readjust his life to about one hundred and sixty a month. And as for Chris Westhouse, he’ll have to take to the movies for a livelihood. He always was good at theatricals, and I happen to know he’s got the ideal ‘film’ face.” “There’s Charley Tippery,” Bascom suggested, though it was patent that he was hopeless about it. “Yes,” Francis agreed with equal hopelessness. “There’s only one thing the matter with him——his father still lives.” “The old cuss never took a flyer in his life,” Bascom supplemented. “There’s never a time he can’t put his hand on millions. And he still lives, worse luck.” “Charley could get him to do it, and would, except the one thing that’s the matter with me.” “No securities left?” his broker queried. Francis nodded. “Catch the old man parting with a dollar without due security.” * * * * * Nevertheless, a few minutes later, hoping to find Charley Tippery in his office during the noon hour, Francis was sending in his card. Of all jewelers and gem merchants in New York, the Tippery establishment was the greatest. Not only that. It was esteemed the greatest in the world. More of the elder Tippery’s money was invested in the great Diamond Corner, than even those in the know of most things knew of this particular thing. The interview was as Francis had forecast. The old man still held tight reins on practically everything, and the son had little hope of winning his assistance. “I know him,” he told Francis. “And though I’m going to wrestle with him, don’t pin an iota of faith on the outcome. I’ll go to the mat with him, but that will be about all. The worst of it is that he has the ready cash, to say nothing of oodles and oodles of safe securities and United States bonds. But you see, Grandfather Tippery, when he was young and struggling and founding the business, once loaned a friend a thousand. He never got it back, and he never got over it. Nor did Father Tippery ever get over it either. The experience seared both of them. Why, father wouldn’t lend a penny on the North Pole unless he got the Pole for security after having had it expertly appraised. And you haven’t any security, you see. But I’ll tell you what. I’ll wrestle with the old man to-night after dinner. That’s his most amiable mood of the day,. And I’ll hustle around on my own and see what I can do. Oh, I know a few hundred thousand won’t mean anything, and I’ll do my darnedest for something big. Whatever happens, I’ll be at your house at nine to-morrow——” “Which will be my busy day,” Francis smiled wanly, as they shook hands. “I’ll be out of the house by eight.” “And I’ll be there by eight then,” Charley Tippery responded, again wringing his hand heartily. “And in the meantime I’ll get busy. There are ideas already beginning to sprout....” * * * * *