I had seen letters like that before, but my interest was aroused. I picked up a copy of the New York _Morning Telegraph_ from the table. Turning the pages, I noticed a number of tipsters' advertisements, all claiming they were continually giving the public winners on the races. THE BIRTH OF AN IDEA TO COIN MONEY "Do these people make money?" I asked Campbell. "Yes, they must," he answered, "because the ads have been running every day for months and months." "Well, if poorly written ads like these can make money, what would well-written ads accomplish, and particularly from an information bureau which might give real information?" I queried. A moment later the ticker began its click, click, click. "Here come the entries," said Campbell. He went to the tape and ejaculated, "By Jiminy! Here's Silver Coin entered for to-morrow." The coincidence stirred me. "I've got an idea for an advertisement," I said. "Get me a sheet of paper." It was supplied. I wrote: +---------------------------+ | Bet Your Last Dollar On | | SILVER COIN | | To-day | | At New Orleans | | He Will Win At 10 to 1 | +---------------------------+ And then I faltered. "I must have a name for the signature," I said. I picked up the newspaper again and turned to the page containing the entries for that day at the New Orleans races. A sire's name was given as St. Maxim. "Maxim!" I said. "That's a good name. I'll use it. Now for one that will make euphony." "Gay!" said Campbell. "How's that? It's sporty." Thereupon I created the trade-mark of Maxim & Gay. In a postscript to this advertisement I stated that the usual terms for this information were $5 per day and $25 per week, and that the day after next Maxim & Gay would have another selection, which would not be given away free. "Maxim & Gay" were without an address. Half a block away on Broadway, at a real estate office, we were informed that upstairs they had some rooms to let. I engaged one of these for $15 a month--no pay for a week. Two tin signs were ordered painted, bearing the inscription, "Maxim & Gay." One was placed at the entrance of the building and the other on the door upstairs. The sign-painter extended credit. Before bidding me adieu, Campbell exclaimed of a sudden: "By golly! I can't understand that scheme. How can you make any money giving out that Silver Coin tip for nothing?" "Watch and see!" I said. Around to the _Morning Telegraph_ office, then on Forty-second Street, I went. "Insert this ad and give me $7 worth of space," I said, as I shelled out my last cent. When the advertisement appeared the next morning, its aspect was disappointing. The space occupied was only fifty-six agate lines, or four inches, single-column measure. It looked puny. Would people notice it?