“I insisted that we give the lady a bill of sale of all our belongings as security,” explained Frank. “The lawyer laughed at me. ‘You don’t know a good thing when you see it,’ he said. ‘Perhaps not,’ I told him; ‘but I know an honorable way to protect those who have confidence in me, as far as I can.’ Well, anyhow, I made him write out a memorandum of the whole transaction and signed a bill of sale. Was I going too fast in setting myself up as the one man of this very enterprising firm? I hope I did exactly right.” And then followed the hearty sanction of Jolly and the boys to all Frank had done. “I’m only a sort of drifter-in,” observed Jolly, “so what I say is only out of friendly interest. I would advise that just one of the firm take the responsibility, if he’s willing, on the lease and in all business dealings. It simplifies things, you see.” “It’s got to be Frank, then,” spoke Randy. “It will always be Frank,” echoed Pep. “He’s the brains of the business; isn’t he?” “I don’t like the way you put it as to your being a drifter-in, as you call it, Mr. Jolly,” said Frank. “If it wasn’t for you I am afraid the Fairlands venture wouldn’t have amounted to much.” “Sho!” derided Jolly modestly. “It’s true. You had your way about that and drew just as little money as you could. Of course that was an experiment, and I let you have your own way. Now we are on a broader basis and I’m going to have mine.” “Are you?” challenged Jolly, with twinkling eyes. “Yes, sir, I am. I shall make a definite new deal all around.” “Will you?” said Jolly. “Don’t you doubt it. You’ve been a staunch, helpful friend and it’s equal partners, if we come to Seaside Park.” “That is, you think you are going to make a business man of me?” “You’ve been one all along,” vociferated Pep. “Why, that noise wagon idea alone----” “A freak,” interrupted Jolly, but Frank was resolute and it was settled that their interesting friend should have a quarter interest in the profits of the new venture. Frank called Mr. Morton into their confab. He explained to him precisely their plans and the extent of their capital. “Mrs. Carrington backing you; eh?” he observed. “That makes you pretty solid, if you only knew it, young man, although I had about made up my mind to accept you as a tenant without any guarantee. Shall we call it settled--you lease the premises until October first, pay me the first month’s rent before you come in and give me your word that you won’t break the lease?” “I wouldn’t take the place on any other arrangement,” said Frank. “It’s settled, then,” said their landlord, and Pep followed him as he went to the window where the “To Rent” sign was placed, removed it and began to tear it up. Pep was pretty near dancing. If they had been given a palace he could not have been more pleased. “S-st!” sounded a sudden hail and the ubiquitous and mysterious Peter Carrington came into evidence just outside the open doorway.