Mr. Gubb might have had the bravery to propose to her
instantly, but she weighed one thousand pounds, and it required five
times the bravery to propose to a thousand pounds that was required to
propose to two hundred pounds.

The second reason was that Mr. Dorgan, the manager of the side-show,
would not release Syrilla from her contract.

"She's a beauty of a Fat Lady," said Mr. Dorgan, "and I've got a
five-year contract with her and I'm going to hold her to it."

Mr. Medderbrook and Mr. Gubb would have been quite hopeless when Mr.
Dorgan said this if Syrilla had not taken them to one side.

"Listen, dearies," she said, "he's a mean, old brute, but don't you
fret! I got a hunch how to make him cancel my contract in a perfectly
refined an' ladylike manner. Right now I start in bantin' and dietin'
in the scientific-est manner an' the way I can lose three or four
hundred pounds when I set out to do it is something grand. It won't be
no time at all until I'm thin and wisp-like, an' Mr. Dorgan will be
glad to get rid of me."

This information greatly cheered Mr. Gubb. While he admired Syrilla
just as she was, a rapid mental calculation assured him that she would
still be quite plump at seven hundred pounds and he knew he could love
seven tenths of Syrilla more than he could love ten tenths of any
other lady in the world.

The third reason had to do with the ten-thousand-dollar reward. When
Mr. Gubb and Mr. Medderbrook were proceeding homeward on the train,
Mr. Medderbrook brought up the subject of the reward again.

"I'm going to pay you that ten thousand dollars, Gubb," he said, "but
I'm going to pay it so it will be worth a lot more than ten thousand
dollars to you."

"You are very overly kind," said Mr. Gubb.

"It's because I know you are fond of Syrilla," said Mr. Medderbrook.

Mr. Gubb blushed.

"So I ain't going to give you ten thousand dollars in cash," said Mr.
Medderbrook. "I'm going to do a lot better by you than that. I'm going
to give you gold-mine stock. The only trouble--"

"Gold-mine stock sounds quite elegantly nice," said Mr. Gubb.

"The only trouble," said Mr. Medderbrook, "is that the gold-mine stock
I want to give you is in a block of twenty-five thousand dollars. It's
nice stock. It's as neatly engraved as any stock I ever saw, and it is
genuine common stock in the Utterly Hopeless Gold-Mine Company."

"The name sounds sort of unhopeful," ventured Mr. Gubb timidly.

"That shows you don'