work. My father wore
himself out in your stinking old factory. I nearly did the same. But
you can't rob me of this. You sha'n't, that's all!"

And for a minute them two stood there givin' each other the assault and
batt'ry stare, without sayin' a word. A queer lookin' pair they made,
too; this Bradish gent, big and beefy and prosperous, and Tink Tuttle,
his greasy old coat hangin' loose on his skinny shoulders, and lookin'
like he was on his way from the accident ward to the coroner's office.

"Five thousand cash, then," growls Mr. Jones.

"Not if you said fifty!" Tink comes back at him.

"Bah!" says Bradish. "Why, I could have you and your machine thrown out
in the road this minute. But I'll give you twenty-four hours to think it
over. Remember, to-morrow night at six I'll be here with the money. Then
it will be either sell or go. Come, Captain," and with that they pikes
out.

"Say, Tink," says I, "you got him comin', all right, and if you don't
get that five thousand you're no good."

"I know I'm no good," says Tuttle. "That's why I don't want his money."

"But see here, Tink," says I. "You ain't goin' to turn down an offer
like that, are you?"

"I am," says he, "and I'll tell you why. It's because I know I'm no good
and never would be any good, even if I could live, which I can't. Oh, I
don't need any doctor to tell me how much longer I've got. They gave me
only three months over a year ago. I knew better. I knew I should hold
out until I finished my flyer. Father didn't have anything like that to
keep on for; so he went quicker. He didn't want to go, either. And it
was awful to watch him, Torchy, just awful! But I'm not going to finish
that way. No, not now," and he walks up to the machine and runs his
hand loving along one of the smooth planes.

"How's that?" says I. "What are you drivin' at, Tink?"

"I can't tell you how I shall do it exactly," says he; "for I'm not
sure. But I mean to go up once; way, way up, out over the ocean just at
sunrise. Won't that be fine, eh? Just think! Sailing off up there into
the blue; up, and up, and up; higher than anyone has ever dared to go
before, higher and higher, until your gasoline gives out and you can't
go any more!"

"Yes; but what then?" says I, beginnin' to feel some chilly along the
spine.

"Why, that's enough, isn't it?" says he. "Anyway, it's all I ask. I'll
call it all quits then."

"Ah, say, cut out the tragedy!" says I. "You give me the creeps, tal