ith a thousand dollars."

"You?" said Bryson, with a gentle laugh. "Why, Bobby Gillian, there's
only one logical thing you could do. You can go buy Miss Lotta
Lauriere a diamond pendant with the money, and then take yourself off
to Idaho and inflict your presence upon a ranch. I advise a sheep
ranch, as I have a particular dislike for sheep."

"Thanks," said Gillian, rising, "I thought I could depend upon you,
Old Bryson. You've hit on the very scheme. I wanted to chuck the
money in a lump, for I've got to turn in an account for it, and I
hate itemizing."

Gillian phoned for a cab and said to the driver:

"The stage entrance of the Columbine Theatre."

Miss Lotta Lauriere was assisting nature with a powder puff, almost
ready for her call at a crowded matinee, when her dresser mentioned
the name of Mr. Gillian.

"Let it in," said Miss Lauriere. "Now, what is it, Bobby? I'm going
on in two minutes."

"Rabbit-foot your right ear a little," suggested Gillian, critically.
"That's better. It won't take two minutes for me. What do you say to
a little thing in the pendant line? I can stand three ciphers with a
figure one in front of 'em."

"Oh, just as you say," carolled Miss Lauriere. "My right glove,
Adams. Say, Bobby, did you see that necklace Della Stacey had on the
other night? Twenty-two hundred dollars it cost at Tiffany's. But, of
course--pull my sash a little to the left, Adams."

"Miss Lauriere for the opening chorus!" cried the call boy without.

Gillian strolled out to where his cab was waiting.

"What would you do with a thousand dollars if you had it?" he asked
the driver.

"Open a s'loon," said the cabby, promptly and huskily. "I know a
place I could take money in with both hands. It's a four-story
brick on a corner. I've got it figured out. Second story--Chinks
and chop suey; third floor--manicures and foreign missions; fourth
floor--poolroom. If you was thinking of putting up the cap--"

"Oh, no," said Gillian, "I merely asked from curiosity. I take you
by the hour. Drive 'til I tell you to stop."

Eight blocks down Broadway Gillian poked up the trap with his cane
and got out. A blind man sat upon a stool on the sidewalk selling
pencils. Gillian went out and stood before him.

"Excuse me," he said, "but would you mind telling me what you would
do if you had a thousand dollars?"

"You got out of that cab that just drove up, didn't you?" asked the
blind man.

"I did," said Gillian.

"I gu