cket and walked down to the Old Port.

"What's Pfizer?" he asked Myron.

"Pharmaceutical company. Solid. The long term outlook for the drug
industry is good." Oliver inquired about the fund that was listed on
the statement. "Right," Myron said. "It's a safe place to park
cash--government securities only, decent return."

"I was wondering," Oliver said, "if you could hold my statements
here--not send them."

"We can do that. Let me make a note. No problem."

"Thanks," Oliver said. "I'll check in from time to time."

"Or call me," Myron said. "I've got my eye on some companies--domestic
natural gas, fiber optics, fuel cell technology."

"I've heard of fuel cells. What are they?"

"They produce electricity directly from a source of hydrogen. You feed
them pure hydrogen or a hydrocarbon fuel; you get electricity, heat,
and water. No pollution. Very reliable. Cars would be the bonanza
market, but there are engineering problems to solve first--to make the
cars cheap enough. There are a lot of other applications. Residential
power. Industrial power."

"Wowzir!"

"It's a ways off," Myron said. "The people who develop a technology
aren't always the ones who make the big money with it. Developing a
business takes a different kind of skill." Myron shook his head. "I've
been burnt," he said. "You put a winning technology together with
winning management--_then_ you've got something."

"It's interesting. Well--do what you think best. I'll start following
these companies."

"No statement?" Myron inquired, making sure.

"Save a tree," Oliver confirmed.

"Right." A twinkle quickly disappeared. "Right."

Oliver walked up Congress Street. He saw a rack of postcards in an art
supplies store window. I ought to send Muni a card, he thought. There
weren't any that he liked, however. Maybe at the Museum. Christmas
decorations were already appearing. It was going to be a busy holiday.

Arlen was collecting his mail when Oliver arrived home.

"Hey, Arlen, how are you?"

"Just fine, Oliver."

"Developments, Arlen!"

"I noticed--with a Volvo."

"Jennifer. We must get together soon. She's great. She's going to have
a baby. We're going to have a baby."

"Congratulations! I'm happy for you, Oliver. Developments downstairs,
as well."

"I wondered," Oliver said.

"Porter," Arlen said simply.

"Excellent! The House of Happy Endings."

"Thank you, Oliver. Let us hope so. When is the baby due?"

"April."

"Oh, my. D