ufacturing. Now if we could only find buyers for
half those unsubscribed shares----"

"Bah!" snorts Fosdick. "Hasn't Woodbury hawked 'em all over town? Why
isn't he here now? Tell me that, will you? Because he's done with us!
We're squeezed lemons, we are, and he can't find any more to squeeze!"

"Pardon me," says Alvin, "but I wish to state that I believe fully in
this enterprise. It's sound, it's scientific, it's progressive. And
while as a rule I don't go in for speculative investments, I shall be
very glad, in this instance, providing you all agree to stand by and see
it through with me, to take--say ten thousand shares at par. In fact, I
stand ready to write a check for the full amount this minute. What do
you say?"

Well, we gasps and gawps at Alvin like so many orphan asylum kids when
Santa Claus bounces in at the Christmas exercises.

Manning gets his breath back first. "Gentlemen," says he, "isn't this
offer worth considering? Let's see, did I get your name right,
Mr.--er----"

"Alvin Pratt Barton," says our Santa Claus.

"Pratt Barton?" repeats Manning. "Any connection with the brokerage firm
of that name?"

Alvin shrugs his shoulders and smiles. "The late Mr. Barton was my
father," says he. "Mr. Pratt is my uncle by marriage. But I am doing
this on my own initiative, you know. I should like an expression of
opinion."

Say, he got it! Inside of three minutes we'd voted unanimous to hold on
for two months longer, made Alvin vice president of the comp'ny, and his
check has been handed over to the treasurer, which is me. Then he'd
shaken hands hearty with each one, patted 'em on the back, and even got
Doc Fosdick smilin' amiable as he leaves.

"Alvin," says I after they'd all gone, "take it from me, you're some
pacifier! Why, if it hadn't been for you jumpin' in, I expect we'd jawed
away here for hours until we broke up in a free-for-all. Honest, you got
the white dove of peace lookin' like a mad fish hawk."

"Tut, tut!" says Alvin. "No spoofing, you know. Really, it takes very
little to bring men together; for, after all, we are brothers. Only at
times we forget."

"You mean most of us never remember," says I. "But you're a true sport,
anyway, and the least I can do is to blow you to the best lunch on
Fifth-ave. Come on."

He consents ready enough, providin' I'll stroll over to the Grand
Central with him first, while he sees about some baggage. We was makin'
a dash through the traffic across Sixt