y this," said Bison Billiam. "I have a permanent Wild
West show in New York. I want a new feature for it. You are it. I'll give
you three hundred a----"

"Four hundred; you said four hundred!" exclaimed Dolly.

He turned to her with a bow which held homage. "Four hundred," he
corrected.

"What will I have to do?" asked Charles-Norton, still somewhat dazed.

"Just fly. Fly every night, and at the matinees, Wednesdays and
Saturdays. The police will stand for it, I think--except on Sundays. But
we'll settle the details later. Meanwhile, here's the contract." He
fumbled in the inside of his buckskin jacket and drew out a typewritten
document.

Charles-Norton stood long over the contract, spread out on the table. He
pretended to read it, but was too agitated to do so. The little purple
characters danced in the glow of the lamp. Upon his right shoulder he
could feel Dolly's chin; it rested there tenderly, with wistfulness, in
prayer. Mixed with his excitement was a vague sadness, a sadness,
somehow, as though he were saying farewell to someone. But he had
already gone through the crisis; to Dolly's heart-rending cry upon the
dietary inadequacy of pine-nuts, he had yielded his whole being in
supreme sacrifice. An exultation possessed him at the thought, a madness
of self-gift. He straightened to his full height; "I'll sign!" he cried
with ringing accent.

He felt Dolly turn about him; she laid her head upon his breast. "Sh-sh,
sh-sh," he whispered, patting her; "it's all right, Dolly." He raised his
head once more. "I'll sign!" he declared again loudly.

"Well, I should say so," murmured Bison Billiam, a bit amazed at all this
ceremony. Out of the holster which hung on his belt, he drew a
fountain-pen, which lay snugly by the silver-mounted revolver. And
Charles-Norton, his left arm about Dolly, with his right hand signed
firmly the contract.

"I'll be back in the morning," said Bison Billiam as he mounted his
horse. "You'll give me an exhibition, and we'll settle on your stunt and
on the size of your machine--your----"

But his last word flew away with him in the night. Charles-Norton closed
the door. There was a little silence. "What did he mean?" asked
Charles-Norton; "what did he mean by the size, the size of----"

"Oh, I don't know," said Dolly. "Goosie, you are a dear; a darling,
Goosie. Goosie----"

"That's all right, little girl," said Charles-Norton with large
magnanimity; "glad to do it for you." And th