"That's quite an accurate description of my own feelings towards the business," said the other candidate for Miss Million's fortune. "I'm not breaking my neck or straining myself any to hand over to the lawyers any of the precious dollars that I want for the wedding-portion of my machine."
"Go to law——No, that's not a thing I want to do," repeated the present owner of the precious dollars. "Same time, I'm not going to lose any of the money that's mine by right if I can possibly keep hold on it—that's only sense, that is!"
And she turned to me, while again I felt as if I were a referee. "What do you say, Smith?"
I was deadly puzzled.
I ventured: "But if you've both made up your minds you must have the money, there doesn't seem anything for it but to go to law, does there?"
"Wait awhile," said the young American slowly. "There does appear to me to be an alternative. Now, see here——"
He leant towards Miss Million. He held out his hand, as if to point out the alternative. He said: "There is another way of fixing it, I guess. We needn't fight. I'd feel real mean, fighting a dear little girl like you——"
"You won't get round me," said Miss Million, quite as defensively as if she were addressing a tradesman's boy on a doorstep. "No getting round me with soft soap, young man!"
"I wasn't meaning it that way," he said, "The way I meant would let us share the money and yet let's both have the dollars and the glory of the invention and everything else!"
"I don't know how you mean," declared Miss Million.