"Well, John, I'll tell you how it was," Bunch tried to square himself. "My roll was just five thousand strong, and I began to wish for about two thousand more, so that I could take the little wife over the wild waves and point out Paris and the Riviera to her. In Washington I met a quick talker named Ike Gibson and he played me for a good, steady listener. Ike showered me with cinches and in short order I was down with Bennings fever. And then----" "I know the answer, Bunch," I sighed, "You followed Ike's clues and finished fainting. I'm wise. But, say! Bunch, didn't you pipe me with the neck bruises often enough in the old days to profit by my experience? Didn't I go up against that horse game so hard that I shook the whole community, and aren't you on to the fact that the only sure thing about a race track is a seat on a trolley car going in the opposite direction?" "I know, John," Bunch replied, "but this looked awfully good to me, and I went after it." "Did they sting you for the whole bundle?" I asked. "Not quite," Bunch answered sadly; "but they certainly put a crimp in my wallet. I'm only $1,500 strong now, and that's not enough to tip the porter on the honeymoon journey. You know, John, I'm only drawing $100 a week from the brokerage business, and I'll get nervous if I can't make up a purse quicker than that. I'll simply have to go to Alice and Uncle William Grey and get a set-back, and--say, John! I'm a polish, for fair! Alice is making all her preparations, and has her mind fastened to the date, and all that sort of thing, and like a chump I go up against that----" "Oh, get back from the funeral, get back, Bunch!" I advised. "How often have I told you not to cut a beef about the has-happened? You went to Bennings, got dizzy, did a couple of Arabs and lose the price of a wedding trip--that's all. Now we must get that money back before the minister steps up to start the fight." "How can I win out $3,500 in seven weeks, I'd like to know!" Bunch moaned. "A cincherine," I came back. "I've got a scheme cooking that will put you and me all to the splendid in short order." "Yes, but these schemes of yours sometimes get nervous prostration," Bunch began to fret. "Sush, now!" I said; "this is the real goods. It can't go wrong. It's just like getting money from Carnegie. I've discovered a genius." "A genius!" Bunch repeated; "what kind of a genius?" "His name is Signor Beppo Petroskinski, an Illusionist," I answered. "And he's aces." "What does he do?" asked Bunch; "spar eight rounds with the piano or sell Persian rugs?"