of cigars and cigarettes decreased
correspondingly, but the new concern had the pleasure of listing
at least a dozen pieces of property direct from the owners.

An alarming piece of information vouchsafed itself just before lunch
time, when, for the first time, the bank book of the Financial
Corporation was consulted. Out of their original six thousand dollars,
there were three thousand left.

"Holy Mackinaw!" breathed Phil, in prayer to some Esquimo god.

"Great Andrew Carnegie!" muttered Jim, wetting the glowing end of his
cigar and putting it carefully into his upper vest pocket for future
use when a client might be around.

Receipts and jotted notes were gathered together and hastily
consulted, but they were unable to reduce their outlay or swell the
credit side of their bank book.

"Good job we noticed it in time!" grinned Jim.

"I should say so! And we have to start in right now with a proper
system; card indices, loose-leaf, cash book, ledgers, everything up to
the minute. You're the lawyer, Jim, the silver tongue, the eloquently
persuasive. Me for the books, the financing, the adjusting and the
accounts;--with a help out on the buying and selling end when
required."

"Right-o,--that's the stuff!"

And so it was arranged.

At noon Phil ran over to break the news to Sol Hanson that he had
quit,--for a season at least.

The big, good-natured fellow almost shed tears at the news, although
he had known that Phil would be leaving him one of these days--but, as
he had fancied, for the purpose of ranching, not buying and selling
property.

"Well, I been guess you ain't no fool, Phil. You know your business
pretty good. Jim too! You make dam-fine real-estate ginks."

He scratched his head.

"Only I been left with one hell-job. Can't get nobody take your place.
You dam-fine blacksmith all shot toboggan to the devil."

"Say, old man!" put in Phil. "I know a man that will suit you down to
the ground."

"What you call him?" asked Sol.

"Smiler Hanson!"

Sol laughed.

"Aw, go on! You crazy! Smiler dam-fine little rotter all right, but he
no good, no work, headpiece all shot toboggan to blazes."

"Don't you believe it? Why, he only wants to be given a show."

Sol shook his head.

"Shake away!" continued Phil. "Smiler's getting a big fellow and he is
as strong as a bull. He is simply foolish over horses. Why--I can't
chase him out of this place at times."

As Phil was going on with his eulogy, th