"We don't have to pay for premiums, you know, until we have money coming in to do it with," added Barrifield.
"That's so," said Livingstone,—"that's so! We'll have both! Suppose we go now, fellows," he added, rather anxiously; "I've got a letter to write."
"Stony's always got a letter to write," commented Van Dorn.
The others nodded, but said nothing.
They arose from the table in vast friendship with each other. The repast had been bountiful. In after days it was referred to as the great dinner.
Also—sometimes—as the last dinner.
VII
A LETTER FROM MISS DOROTHY CASTLE OF CLEVELAND TO MR. TRUMAN LIVINGSTONE OF NEW YORK
Dear old True: I am simply in a whirl. The copies you sent of the 'cash for names' circulation plan have set me to going till my feet no longer seem to touch anything. I have covered all my stationery with figures, and my desk fairly reeks with millions. You know I never cared much for figures before, and I was never very good at them when we went to school together, especially fractions; but there are no fractions about this—it's all just tens and hundreds and thousands and millions,—a perfect wilderness of decimals,—and I enjoy them so much that I get up early in the morning to play with them. I have taken all the figures you sent me, showing the cost of paper and printing and so on, and calculated over and over, and then divided by two, and sometimes three to be on the safe side, and even then I don't know what we shall do with all the money.