“I don’t think I’ll buy any more gold-mine stock after the present lot is paid up completely full,” said Mr. Gubb.
“That’s all right,” said Mr. Medderbrook. “I haven’t given the printer final orders yet and if you prefer something else I’ll make it Oil-Well stock. It is all the same to me. The property will produce just as much oil as it will gold. Every bit!”
“Have you heard from Miss Syrilla recently of late?” asked Mr. Gubb.
“Yes, I have,” said Mr. Medderbrook. “I have heard two dollars and a half’s worth.”
The telegram, which Mr. Medderbrook permitted Mr. Gubb to read after he had paid the cash in hand, said:—
Heaven smiles on us. Have given up all vegetable diet. Have given up potatoes, beets, artichokes, fried parsnips, Swiss chard, turnips, squash, kohl-rabi, boiled radishes, sugar beets, corn on the cob, cow pumpkin, mushrooms, string beans, asparagus, spinach, and canned and fresh tomatoes. Have lost ten pounds more. Weight now only nine hundred and fifteen pounds. Dorgan worried. I dream of Gubby and love.
Mr. Gubb sighed happily. “I suppose,” he said blissfully, “that by the present moment of time Miss Syrilla has only got left a remainder of six double chins out of seven, dear little one!” And he went back to his office feeling that it would not be long now before the apple of his eye was released from her side-show contract.
The next day Mr. Gubb had begun his labors on a new and interesting case when the door opened.
“Gubb, come across the hall here!”
Gubb looked up from the labor in which he was engaged and blinked at Lawyer Higgins.