ng some canvassing himself. In the past week he's
taken at least forty members for his loan company, and every man Jack
of them are old members of ours."

Doc Turner began rubbing his frosted hands together at a furious rate.

"Squinch has sold us out!" he charged. "He's let Wallingford copy that
list on the sly!"

"No, I don't think so," said Grout, more lugubrious than ever. "I made
some inquiries. You know, a lot of these fellows are customers of
mine, and I find that he just happened to land on some of them in the
first place. One recommends him to the others, just as we got them.
If we don't sell him that list right away he won't need it."

Together they went to Squinch and explained the matter, very much to
that gentleman's discomfiture and even agitation.

"What's his plan of operation, anyhow?" complained Squinch.

"I don't understand it," returned Andy. "I found out this much,
though: the members all expect to get rich as soon as the company
starts operating."

Mr. Squinch pounded his long finger-tips together for some time while
he pondered the matter.

"It might be worth while to have a share or two of stock in his
company, merely to find out his complete plan," he sagely concluded.
"If he's getting members that easy it's quite evident there is some
good money to be made on the inside."

This was the unanimous opinion of the entire five members of the board
of directors, and as each member was in positive pain on the subject
of "good money on the inside," they called a meeting that very
afternoon in Mr. Squinch's office, inviting Mr. Wallingford to attend,
which he did with inward alacrity but outward indifference.

"Mr. Wallingford," said Mr. Squinch, "we have about decided to accept
your offer for our list, but before doing so we will have to ask you
to explain to us the organization of your company."

"Very simple," Wallingford told them cheerfully. "It's incorporated
for a hundred thousand dollars; a thousand shares of a hundred dollars
each."

"All paid in?" Mr. Squinch wanted to know.

"All paid in," replied Mr. Wallingford calmly.

"Indeed!" commented Mr. Squinch. "Who owns the stock?"

"My four office assistants own one share each and I own the balance."

A smile pervaded the faces of all but one of the members of the board
of directors of the defunct National Building and Loan Association.
Even Tom Fester's immovable countenance presented a curiously strained
appearance. Strange a