“Honestly, how do you do it?” she inquired. “We have only been here a little over forty-eight hours, and yet you have already picked up a host of nice friends.”
“I patronize only the best saloons,” he replied with a grin; then, more seriously: “This is a mighty rich little city, Fannie. I could organize a stock company here, within a week, for anything from a burglar’s trust to a church consolidation.”
“It’s a pretty place,” she admitted. “I like it very much from what I have seen of it.”
He chuckled.
“Looks like a spending town,” he returned; “and where they spend a wad they’re crazy to make one. Give me one of these inland society towns for the loose, long green. New York’s no place to start an honest business,” and again he chuckled. “By the way, Fannie,” he added after a pause, “what do you think of my going into the patent medicine line?”
“How do you mean?” she inquired, frowning.
“Oh, on a big scale,” he replied. “Advertise it big, manufacture it big.”
She studied it over in musing silence.
“I don’t mind what you do so long as it is honest,” she finally said.
“Good. I’ll hunt up Quagg to-morrow and spring it on him.”