“First, we have no money--now.” Tommy looked at Mr. Kemble. Mr. Kemble nodded. “Second, we think we have a big thing.” Tommy again looked at Mr. Kemble. This time Mr. Kemble looked at Tommy and did not nod. Bill frowned, but Tommy went on, pleasantly: “Everybody that comes here doubtless thinks the same thing.” “Every inventor,” corrected Mr. Kemble. “But we have just left Professor Jenkins, of the Case School of Applied Science.” “What did he say?” asked Mr. Kemble. “He was very much interested. He has a theory, which we must prove by a long series of experiments he wants us to make.” Tommy paused. “Go on!” said Kemble, frowning slightly, as if he did not relish a story in instalments. Bill bit his lip, but Tommy smiled pleasantly and went on: “Mr. Kemble, we have no money, but kindly consider this: We went to Professor Jenkins for science. We have come to you for legal advice. Therefore, we have not done what ordinary fool inventors would do. Whatever your fee may be we'll pay--in time. You will have to risk it. But now is the time for you to say whether you want to hear any more or not.” “And if I don't?” “Then we'll go back and save up money until we can return to this same office with the cash. That means that some one else may beat us to the Patent Office. We think we have a big thing--so big that it needs the best patent lawyer we can get. Do you still want to take our case?” Kemble looked at Tommy's eager face a moment. Then he smiled and said: “I'll listen, and then I'll tell you what I'll do. I may or I may not take your case, for you may or you may not have a patent.” “This”--and Tommy pointed to Bill--“is the inventor, William S. Byrnes. I am merely a friend--” “And partner!” interjected Bill. “Share and share alike!” “That's for later consideration,” said Tommy. “No, it's for now--fifty-fifty,” said Bill, pugnaciously. “I shouldn't quarrel about the division of the spoils if I were you,” suggested Mr. Kemble. “Fool inventors always do. Suppose we first find out whether it's worth quarreling about?” “Go on, Bill; you tell him,” said Tommy, and he began to study the notes he had taken about the points Professor Jenkins had emphasized. “Well,” said Bill, confidently, “we've got a kerosene-carburetor that works all right.” “All the time? Under all conditions?” asked Kemble, leaning back in his chair with a suggestion of resignation. Bill did not like to admit at the very outset that his own child misbehaved above nine hundred revolutions.