at least a royalty. There'd
be a lot more money in it for you."

"Wait just a minute," directed Loring, sitting down at his typewriting
machine from which the neat operator had fled at the very beginning of
the social invasion.

For the next two or three minutes the rapidfire click of the keys under
Loring's practiced fingers drowned all other sound, and then he jerked
off a paper.

"Now, Johnny, you sign this," he ordered. "It is a rather legal
transfer, in line with your other dubious operations of the day, of all
your rights in the Johnny Gamble comb to one Bruce Townley, here
present. Bruce, give Johnny your check for the ten thousand dollars."

"All right, if you fellows are bound to have it that way," agreed
Bruce. "I haven't a check-book with me, Johnny, but I'll send it up to
you from the office to-morrow."

"But, Bruce, that won't do!" hastily urged Constance. "He must have the
check right now. Don't you see he only has a million and ten thousand
dollars? He owes Polly five thousand and me fifteen thousand, and if
you give him ten thousand dollars for his invention he'll have a
million and how much? I'm all mixed up! But I do know this: that he'll
have his million dollars left exactly to the cent!"

"I--I see," stuttered Bruce in a fever of anxiety to help Johnny
achieve his million in the specified time. "I--I'm sorry I haven't my
check-book," and he looked about him hopelessly.

Just in front of his chest was suspended a check, already made out in
favor of Johnny Gamble, in the amount of ten thousand dollars, properly
dated and lacking only Bruce's signature. It was smiling Sammy Chirp
who had been quietly thoughtful enough to remember that he and Bruce
did business at the same bank.

"The nation is saved!" cheered Val Russel as Bruce dropped down at
Loring's desk. Johnny was already busy writing.

"Do hurry!" urged Constance. "It's two minutes of four!"

Johnny jumped up with two checks on the First National Bank and passed
one to Constance and one to Polly.

"Tough luck!" suddenly commented Val Russel. "It just occurs to me that
our friend Johnny will have to break into his million to pay for his
blow-out."

"I'm glad of it," snapped Morton Washer. "He took an eighth of that
million out of my pocket. He can afford to give a dinner, with salted
almonds and real imported champagne at every plate."

"And a glass-scratching diamond souvenir from the million-dollar
bride," added Polly with a wi