The chemist here plunged into a long dissertation of an exceedingly technical nature, which Mr. Leffingwell Hope, even though he had some knowledge of the types of furnaces used by the Wentworth Company, followed with difficulty. But the gist of it was, he gathered, that in all probability the idea could be worked out to a practical conclusion. And as Mr. Merkle, finished, waxing enthusiastic as he developed his thoughts by voicing them: “He was just the baby to work it out, if there was enough money in it for him.” “That’s where I come in,” said the secretary. “I’ve doped out the idea—now you work it out. I’ll see we get the money—we’ll split it fifty-fifty!” “You could consider it done. Have you told it to the boss?” “No, certainly not. I want it in good shape first. That’s why I told you it was a matter demanding secrecy. I haven’t told it to any one—only you.” Mr. Hope thought a moment. “How about some other company than this one—would that be better, do you think?” The chemist considered. “What it saves is only part of the cost of coal,” he said finally. “It ain’t that every factory what you tell it to right away breaks its neck to move to where the coal is.” “But it’s particularly good for the Wentworth Company, you mean?” “For them when they use so much fuel, and because, don’t you know about the new plant what they expect to put up next year? For them it would be a good thing.” Mr. Merkle referred to the fact that the Wentworth Company was considering the building of another factory for the making of optical glass. For some months they had been looking for a good location, one preferably where they could use natural gas for fuel. “I know,” said Mr. Hope. “These new ‘gas babies’ at McKeesport got Mr. Wentworth interested last winter. But I heard him say he had about given up that locality as a possibility.” Merkle nodded. “Your idea beats that,” he said definitely. “You could pick up a coal property cheap—where the coal was so deep you couldn’t mine it with profit.” “Then we’ll put it through with Wentworth,” Mr. Hope announced with finality. “You work it out—how long will it take?” “A month or two. Maybe more. You know it, Leff, I’m busy now.” “You rush it through. I’ll do the rest. Let me know how you get on. And keep your mouth shut.” “You could count on me,” said Mr. Merkle. * * * * * It was a big thing! All the way home that evening, the secretary’s heart beat fast at the thought of how big it was. A fortune in his grasp at last! A fortune that would give him Estelle! And no one to divide the money with except Merkle, and probably he could think of some way of getting rid of him at the last. A fortune for himself! Riches—the greatest thing in the world! CHAPTER V. JIMMY FINDS A FRIEND.