[Illustration: "I don't like to worry you, Sam">[
Sam Turner grabbed for his watch.
"It can't drop through!" he vigorously declared. "I'll go right up there to-night and look after it."
"But you're on your vacation," protested Jack. "That's no way to rest."
"On my vacation!" snorted Sam. "Of course I am. I'm not losing a minute of my vacation. The proper way to have a vacation is to do the thing you enjoy most. Don't you suppose I'll enjoy closing that Flatbush deal?"
"Certainly," admitted his brother, "and I'll enjoy seeing you do it. I know you can."
"Of course I can. But you're to stay here."
"It's not my turn for an outing," protested Jack. "I haven't earned one yet."
"You're to work," explained Sam. "You see, Jack, in one week I can't become a bowling or golf expert enough to beat Princeman, nor a tennis or dancing expert enough to outshine Billy Westlake, nor a horseback or croquet expert enough to make a deuce out of Hollis. You can do all these things, and I want you to give this crowd of distinguished amateurs a showing up. Jack, if you ever worked for athletic honors in your life now is the time to do it; and in between time stick to Miss Stevens like glue. Monopolize her. Don't give these three or any other contenders any of her time. Keep her busy. Let me know every day what progress you're making; don't stop to write; wire! For remember, Jack, I'm going to marry her. I've got to."
"Well, then you'll marry her," Jack sagely concluded. "Does she know it yet?"