because it's my first big
venture and much depends on its success."

"Yes," mused Mr. Stokes sadly, "it is quite probable the first option
may be allowed to lapse, and I understand good money is to be made in
Arkansas timber." His face had grown a trifle ashy. "Of course, this
being the case, I feel in honor bound, Mr. Strumley, to instantly recall
my request."

Paul gave a gasp of admiration. He was glad Bettina's father was "game."
So was Bettina. In the up-boiling of his feelings he emphatically vetoed
the determination of the banker. Indeed, so well and eloquently did he
argue for the retention and use of his funds by the Commercial, that
even the self-effacing man of "deals" could not resist the onslaught. He
rose with unconcealed emotion and grasped the hand of the young man
whose generosity would save the credit of the old financial institution.

Later, flushed with victory, Mr. Strumley returned to the cushions of
his touring car; and the jubilantly chugging machine whizzed him off in
the direction where, surrounded by cash, awaited the 8 per cent.
expectations of Messrs. Proctor and Greenlee. Later still he descended
with said cash upon the offices of Haynes, Forster & Company. And even
later, after an exhilarating spin in the country, he arrived safe and
blithesome at his well-appointed rooms in the Hotel Fulton, ready to
remove with good soap and pure aqua the stains of mart and road before
calling on Miss Bettina Stokes.

The first thing that attracted his eyes on entering his little sitting
room was a neatly wrapped parcel on the table. On the top of it reclined
a dainty, snowy envelope. Mr. Strumley approached suspiciously. Then he
recognized the handwriting and uttered an exclamation of joy. It was
from Bettina.

In the short time he held the missive poised reverently in his hand Paul
permitted a glow of satisfaction to permeate his being. He had done well
and was justly entitled to a moment of self laudation. Mr.
Stokes--Bettina's father--would no longer be against him, for who could
not say he was not capable of competing in the world-arena with
full-grown, gladiatorial intellects? He had even successfully crossed
blades with Mr. Stokes's own best brand of Damascene gray matter. And he
had won the fray, for the everlasting good and happiness of all parties
concerned. In anticipation he already felt himself thrilling proudly
beneath the crown of Bettina's love and her father's benediction.

The cr