inging us something good from the South.' That's
all. Why, only last week I actually offered to deliver a
fifty-thousand-dollar franchise on a ten per cent. commission basis,
provided I was given a beggarly two hundred advance for expenses--and
had it turned down!"

"Ye-e-es," says I. "The way some of them Wall Street plutes shrink from
bein' made richer is painful, ain't it? But I don't see where I fit in."

Mr. Dorsett pats me chummy on the shoulder and proceeds to show me
exactly where. "You know the right people," says he. "You're in with
them. Very well. All I ask of you is the 'Here's Mr. Dorsett' part. I'll
do the rest."

"How simple!" says I. "And us old friends of about five minutes'
standin'! Say, throw in your reverse or you'll be off the bridge. Who's
been tellin' you I was such a simp?"

Mr. Dorsett smiles indulgent. "My error," says he. "But I was hoping
that perhaps you might---- Come, Torchy, hasn't it occurred to you that
I would hardly come as an utter stranger? Who do you suppose now gave me
your address?"

"The chairman of the Stock Exchange?" says I.

"Mother Leary," says he.

"Eh?" says I, gawpin'.

"A flip of fate," says he. "At my hotel I got to talking with the room
clerk, and discovered that his name was Leary. It turned out that he
was Aloysius, the eldest boy. Remember him, don't you?"

Seein' how I'd almost been brought up in the fam'ly when I was a kid, I
couldn't deny it. Course I'd run more with Hunch than any of the other
boys. We'd sold papers together, and gone into the A. D. T. at the same
time. But there wasn't a Leary I didn't know all about.

"You must have boarded there too," says I. "But if I ever heard your
name, it didn't stick."

"It may have been," says he, "that I was not using the Dorsett part of
it just at that time. Business reasons, you understand. But the H in my
name stands for Hines. What about William Hines, now?"

"Hm-m-m!" says I, starin' at him. Sure enough, that did have a familiar
sound to it.

"Let's try it this way," says he: "Uncle Bill Hines."

And, say, that got me! I expect I made some gaspy motions before I
managed to get out my next remark. "You--you ain't the one that left me
with Mother Leary, are you?" I asks.

Dorsett nods. "I'm a trifle late in explaining that carelessness," says
he, "and I can only plead guilty to all your reproaches. But consider
the circumstances. There I was, a free lance of fortune, down to my last
dollar, a