"That's just what we want you for, Billy," Bedford replied. "You know how to give a thing that last finishing-touch which will make it go, where otherwise it might forever remain a fixture in the author's pigeon-hole. When our stories are told and type-written, we want you to go over them, correct the type-writer's spelling, and make whatever alterations you may think, after consulting with us, to be necessary. Then, if the tales are ever published as a collection, you can have your name on the title-page as editor." "Thanks," answered Billy, gratefully. "I shall be charmed." And then he hurried back to his apartments, and threw himself on his bed in a paroxysm of laughter which seemed never-ending, but which in reality did not last more than three hours at the most. Hudson Rivers of Hastings, when the idea was suggested to him, was the most enthusiastic of all--so enthusiastic that the Snobbe boys thought that, in their own parlance, he ought to be "called down." "It's bad form to go crazy over an idea," they said. "If Huddy's going to behave this way about it, he ought to be kept out altogether. It is all very well to experience emotions, but no well-bred person ever shows them--that is, not in Yonkers." "Ah, but you don't understand Huddy," said Tenafly Paterson. "Huddy has two great ambitions in this life. One is to get into the Authors' Club, and the other is to marry a certain young woman whose home is in Boston and whose ambitions are Bostonian. To appear before the world as a writer, which the Dreamers will give him a chance to do at small expense, will help him on to the realization of his most cherished hopes; in fact, Huddy told me that he thought we ought to publish the proceedings of the club at least four times a year, so establishing a quarterly magazine, to which we shall all be regular contributors. He thinks it will pay for itself, and knows it will make us all famous, because Billy Jones is certain to see that everything that goes out is first chop, and I'm inclined to believe Huddy is right. The continual drip, drip, drip of a drop of water on a stone will gradually wear away the stone, and, by Jove! before we know it, by constant hammering away at this dream scheme of ours we'll gain a position that won't be altogether unenviable." "That's so," said Billy. "I wouldn't wonder if with the constant drip, drip, drip of your drops of ink and inspiration you could wear the public out in a very little while. The only troublesome thing will be in getting a publisher for your quarterly." "I haven't any idea that we want a publisher," said Bedford Parke. "We've got capital enough among ourselves to bring the thing out, and so I say, what's the use of letting anybody else in on the profits? A publisher wouldn't give us more than ten per cent. in royalties. If we publish it ourselves we'll get the whole thing."