The first person Montague spoke to about it was Oliver, with whom he chanced to be lunching, at the latter’s club. This was the “All Night” club, a meeting-place of fast young Society men and millionaire Bohemians, who made a practice of going to bed at daylight, and had taken for their motto the words of Tennyson—“For men may come and men may go, but I go on for ever.” It was not a proper club for his brother to join, Oliver considered; Montague’s “game” was the heavy respectable, and the person to put him up was General Prentice. But he was permitted to lunch there with his brother to chaperon him—and also Reggie Mann, who happened in, fresh from talking over the itinerary of the foreign prince with Mrs. Ridgley-Clieveden, and bringing a diverting account of how Mrs. R.-C. had had a fisticuffs with her maid. Montague mentioned the invention casually, and with no idea that his brother would have an opinion one way or the other. But Oliver had quite a vigorous opinion: “Good God, Allan, you aren’t going to let yourself be persuaded into a thing like that!” “But what do you know about it?” asked the other. “It may be a tremendous thing.” “Of course!” cried Oliver. “But what can you tell about it? You’ll be like a child in other people’s hands, and they’ll be certain to rob you. And why in the world do you want to take risks when you don’t have to?” “I have to put my money somewhere,” said Montague. “His first fee is burning a hole in his pocket!” put in Reggie Mann, with a chuckle. “Turn it over to me, Mr. Montague; and let me spend it in a gorgeous entertainment for Alice; and the prestige of it will bring you more cases than you can handle in a lifetime!” “He had much better spend it all for soda water than buy a lot of coal chutes with it,” said Oliver: “Wait awhile, and let me find you some place to put your money, and you’ll see that you don’t have to take any risks.” “I had no idea of taking it up until I’d made certain of it,” replied the other. “And those whose judgment I took would, of course, go in also.” The younger man thought for a moment. “You are going to dine with Major Venable to-night, aren’t you?” he asked; and when the other answered in the affirmative, he continued, “Very well, then, ask him. The Major’s been a capitalist for forty years, and if you can get him to take it up, why, you’ll know you’re safe.” Major Venable had taken quite a fancy to Montague—perhaps the old gentleman liked to have somebody to gossip with, to whom all his anecdotes were new. He had seconded Montague’s name at the “Millionaires’,” where he lived, and had asked him there to make the acquaintance of some of the other members. Before Montague parted with his brother, he promised that he would talk the matter over with the Major.