“Both he and the press,” responded young Morton, “concede that he has; they do, really! Moreover, he possesses, I think, the evidence of it in a cord or two of bonds and stocks, don't y' know! But in what fashion, pray, does that bear upon my present intentions as I've briefly laid them bare?” “No fashion,” said Big Kennedy, “only I'd naturally s'ppose that when you went shy on th' long green, you'd touch th' old gentleman.” “Undoubtedly,” returned young Morton, “I could approach my father with a request for money--that is if my proposal were framed in a spirit of moderation, don't y' know!--say one hundred thousand dollars. But such a sum, in my present temper, would be but the shadow of a trifle. I owe five times the amount; I do, really! I've no doubt I'm on Tiffany's books for more than one hundred thousand, while my bill at the florist's should be at least ten thousand dollars, if the pen of that brigand of nosegays has kept half pace with his rapacity. However,” concluded young Morton, breaking into a soft, engaging laugh, “since I intend, with your aid, to become the master of millions, such bagatelles are unimportant, don't y' know.” “Certainly!” observed Big Kennedy in a consolatory tone; “they don't amount to a deuce in a bum deck. Still, I must say you went in up to your neck on sparks an' voylets. I never saw such a plunger on gewgaws an' garlands since a yard of cloth made a coat for me.” “Those bills arose through my efforts to make grand opera beautiful. I set the prima donna ablaze with gems; and as for the stage, why, it was like singing in a conservatory; it was really!” “Well, let that go!” said Big Kennedy, after a pause. “I shall be glad if through my help you make them millions. If you do, d'ye see, I'll make an armful just as big; it's ag'inst my religion to let anybody grab off a bigger piece of pie than I do when him an' me is pals. It would lower my opinion of myself. However, layin' guff aside, s'ppose you butt in now an' open up your little scheme. Let's see what button you think you're goin' to push.” “This is my thought,” responded young Morton, and as he spoke the eyeglass dropped from its aquiline perch, and under the heat of a real animation those mists of affectation were dissipated; “this is my thought: I want a street railway franchise along Mulberry Avenue, the length of the Island.” “Go on,” said Big Kennedy. “It's my plan to form a corporation---Mulberry Traction. There'll be eight millions of preferred stock at eight per cent. I can build and equip the road with that. In addition, there'll be ten millions of common stock.” “Have you th' people ready to take th' preferred?” “Ready and waiting. If I had the franchise, I could float those eight millions within ten days.” “What do you figger would be th' road's profits?”