"One dollar for every five that I can spend of Pyramid Gordon's money?" says he, wrinklin' his eye corners. "With pleasure! When may I begin?" "Now," says Judson, reachin' prompt into a pigeonhole and producin' a sealed envelope. "Here is the first name on the list. When you bring me Professor McCabe's indorsement of any expenses incurred, or sum to be paid out, I shall give you a check at once." And, say, the last I see of J. Bayard he was driftin' through the door, gazin' absentminded at the envelope, like he was figurin' on how much he could grab off at the first swipe. I gazes after him thoughtful until the comic side of it struck me. "This is a hot combination we're in, eh?" I chuckles to the lawyer gent. "Steele, Judson & McCabe, Joy Distributers; with J. Bayard there wieldin' the fairy wand. Why, say, I'd as quick think of askin' Scrappy McGraw to preside at a peace conference!" Mr. Judson's busy packin' away his papers in a document case; but he smiles vague over his shoulder. "Honest now," I goes on, "do you think our friend will make good as the head of the sunshine department?" "That," says Judson, "is a matter which Mr. Gordon seems to have left wholly to you." "Eh?" says I, doin' the gawp act sudden on my own account. "Well, post me for a Bush League yannigan if it don't listen that way! Then I can see where I'll be earnin' my five per cent. all right, and yet some! Referee for a kind deeds campaign! Good night, Sister Sue! But it's on old Pyramid's account; so let J. Bayard shoot 'em in!" CHAPTER II A FEW SQUIRMS BY BAYARD Say, take it from me, this job of umpirin' a little-deeds-of-kindness campaign, as conducted by J. Bayard Steele, Esq., ain't any careless gladsome romp through the daisy fields. It's a real job! He's the one, you know, that poor old Pyramid Gordon--rest his soul!--picked out to round up all the hangover grouches he'd strewed behind him durin' a long and active career, with instructions to soothe the same with whatever balm seemed best, regardless of expense. And the hard part of it for Steele is that he has to get my O.K. on all his schemes before he can collect from the estate. And while I don't bill myself for any expert on lovin'-kindness, and as a gen'ral thing I ain't of a suspicious nature, I'm wise enough to apply the acid test and bore for lead fillin' on anything he hands in. Course maybe I'm too hard on him, but it strikes me that an ex-pool organizer, who makes a livin' as capper for a hotel branch of a shady stock-brokin' firm, ain't had the best kind of trainin' as an angel of mercy. So when he shows up at my Physical Culture Studio again, the day after Lawyer Judson has explained for us the fine points of that batty will of Pyramid's, I'm about as friendly and guileless as a dyspeptic customs inspector preparin' to go through the trunks of a Fifth avenue dressmaker. He comes in smilin' and chirky, though, slaps me chummy on the shoulder, and remarks cordial: