"Of course, it's sure." "I wish it were twelve now." "You're not to think of me again until twelve comes--not once. You're to tend to business." "I know, but--" She kissed him again. "Along with you." She took his arm and led him to the door and there--where, for all he cared, the whole street might have seen him--he turned quickly and kissed her once more. Don was decidedly self-conscious when he stepped briskly into the office of Carter, Rand & Seagraves, with a brave attempt to give the impression that nothing whatever out of the ordinary had happened to him during his brief vacation. But Blake, as he expressed it to her later, was there with bells on. He spied him the moment he came through the door and greeted him with a whistled bar from the "Wedding March." Not content with that, he tore several sheets of office stationery into small bits and sprinkled him with it. He seemed to take it as more or less of a joke. "You certainly put one over on us," exclaimed Blake. "Well, let it go at that," Don frowned. He was willing to take the horse-play, but there was something in the spirit with which it was done that he did not like. "Always heard bridegrooms were a bit touchy," returned Blake. Don stepped nearer. "Touchy isn't the word, Blake," he said; "proud comes nearer it. Remember that I'm proud as the devil of the girl you used to see here. Just base your future attitude toward her and me on that." A few minutes later Farnsworth restored his good humor. As he came into the private office, Farnsworth rose and extended his hand. "I want to congratulate you, Pendleton," he said sincerely. "Thank you," answered Don. "We feel almost as though we had lost a partner in the firm," he smiled. "But I'm mighty glad for both of you. She was fitted for something a whole lot bigger than Wall Street." "She taught me all I know about the game," confessed Don. "You couldn't have had a better teacher. Sit down. I want to talk over a change I have in mind." Don felt his heart leap to his throat. "I've wanted for some time another man to go out and sell," said Farnsworth. "Do you think you can handle it?" "You bet," exclaimed Don. Farnsworth smiled. "You see," ran on Don in explanation, "I've been selling bonds to Sally--er--Mrs. Pendleton, for a month or more now." "Selling her?" "Imaginary bonds, you know." Farnsworth threw back his head and laughed. "Good! Good! But the true test will come when you try to sell her a real one. I'll bet it will have to be gilt-edged." "And cheap," nodded Don. "Well," said Farnsworth, "I want to try you on the selling staff for a while, anyway. Now, about salary--" "Sally told me to forget that," said Don.