e artist's feeling; but
business and art--unfortunately business and art----"

"I don't see why they shouldn't kiss and be friends," I said. "They're
not nearly such irreconcilable enemies as business and religion. Now
that those two have lain down together like a lion and a lamb--I don't
quite see how they do it, but in that new philosophy of yours it seemed
quite a simple matter--there's no real reason why art shouldn't come in
too."

But Ascher shook his head. He did not seem hopeful of a marriage between
art and business. He knows a good deal about both of them, far more, by
his own confession, than he knows about religion.

CHAPTER VIII.

Ascher was very generous to me in the matter of letters of introduction.
A large bundle of them arrived at my hotel two days after I paid
my visit to his office. There must have been fifty or sixty of them
altogether. I sent for an atlas and found that I had a friend ready made
for me in every port of any importance in the West Indies and on the
east coast of South America as far down as Buenos Aires, and in a good
many places inland. I was fascinated by the idea of such a tour; but
it was plainly not an excursion to be undertaken without care and
consideration. I lingered in New York for a fortnight, buying some
additional clothes, getting together a few books on the South American
republics, and working out steamboat routes.

I saw young Tim Gorman. He called on me, sent by Mrs. Ascher, to
thank me for my good offices. I deserved no thanks; but on the general
principle of taking what I could get I allowed the boy to pour gratitude
all over me.

"I think," I said, "you ought to do fairly well out of the thing,
financially, I mean."

"I don't care about that," said Tim, "at least not exactly. I--I----" he
hesitated for a moment and then blurted out, "I don't particularly want
to be rich."

"That," I said, "is precisely how you ought to feel at your age, but
when you get to be forty--I'm forty, so I know--you'll probably be glad
enough to have some money."

"I want some money now," said Tim. "Do you think I could get----? How
much do you think I'll get out of my cash register?"

"Well," I said, "it's hard to name an exact figure, but it will be
something pretty substantial."

"One thousand dollars?" said Tim anxiously.

"A great deal more than that. If Mr. Ascher makes the arrangements he
contemplates you'll get a great deal more."

I had only the vaguest id