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and I first heard of it," said George Lockwood. "You're all so busy buying and selling stocks that you never even see. Pen and I nursed that thing along, you know, and the lawyers' fees would have paid for - well, a few tennis courts." "Solid gold tennis courts, I heard," said O'Byme. "Well, the next time you have something like that, let a fellow know." "I wouldn't think of it, Ned. If it's going to be good, I want it all myself - with Pen, that is. And if it isn't any good, how could I ever face my dear old friends. What have you got for me?" "Well, just to create good will, in the hope of quid pro quo in the future, I have got something in the way of a tip. It closed today at 11 1/4, and I'm going to hold on to it till it reaches an even 40. That should be around the middle of January, just about time to pay the Christmas bills." "Is it on the big board?" "No it most certainly is not, and as a matter of fact there isn't enough of the stock to attract a big investor like you, but I hope to make a modest fifty grand and then run." "And then what will you do?" "Well, I'm a speculator. I make no bones about it. I'm letting one or two friends in on it, and I fully expect them to reciprocate when they get something. This is pretty small stuff for you, George." "Nothing in five figures is small, Ned. We've just finished building a house, and if I can get someone else to pay for it, I'll let them." "Well, you're welcome to come in." "No thanks, Ned. I might want to get out before you do, and if I started selling, you'd never forgive me." "Well, of course I wouldn't want you to sell it all at once. You could start something that would upset my plans, so I guess you'd better stay out. But just between us, and since you're not going in, I'll tell you what it is so that you can watch it for the next three months." "I'll keep my mouth shut," said George Lockwood. "It's called Magico." "Magic with an o on the end of it?" "Yes. It's a radio set. Eight tubes, and it was designed by a couple of young fellows in Chicago. They have some kind of a gadget that eliminates most of the static in the cities, where the steel in the buildings and the electric power for elevators and so forth - you know. If what they claim is true, 40 is a low price to sell at. But I'll be satisfied with 40." "Yes, and the question immediately arises, why haven't the Stromberg-Carlsons and the Atwater Kents perfected this thing? Why two young fellows in Chicago?" "George, I didn't go to M. I. T., remember? And I'm not in this forever. I only know what I've heard, and I'm going to make a little money while the rumors are going around. Then I'm going to quietly get out, and as silently steal away. It may be a frost, but I'll be in sunny climes, literally and figuratively speaking. I have a goal set for myself, and when I reach that, in five years, I'm going to buy the village where my grandfather was born, in Ireland, and king it there. Catch salmon and drink whiskey the rest of my life. I haven't really got the acquisitive instinct. I'm not quite a bum, but I'm far from being an Andrew Mellon." "I understand completely. I have no desire to live in Ireland. I'd be so outnumbered. But I'm doing what you're planning to do." Geraldine Lockwood and Kathleen O'Byrne were carrying on a separate conversation, adventures in shopping the topic, and now Kathleen said: "George, I overheard the last part. What are you doing that Ned is planning to do? I'd like to know, because it would give me an inkling of Ned's plans." "Aren't you in on Ned's plans, either?" said Geraldine. "Either? You're always in on my plans, Geraldine," said George. "No. I get announcements, but I'm not in on the planning," said Geraldine. Later, in their room at the hotel, George Lockwood said: "That was a surprising remark you made, about not being in on my plans. Did you mean it, or was that just the Chianti? I think Joe fortifies his Chianti just a touch." "Oh, I might have made that remark without