“Women delight to pry into men's secrets.”
“I know it. Had a friend once—married. Every night after dinner he used to sit and stare into the fire and his wife used to ask him what he was thinking about. He would look up at her owlishly and tell her it was something he couldn't explain to her, because she'd never understand it—and that was all he would tell her, although right frequently, I dare say, he felt like telling her something she could understand! She brooded over his secret until she couldn^t stand it any more, and one day she packed her duds and flew home to mother. He let her stay there three months, and finally one day he sent her a blueprint of what he'd been thinking about.”
“What was it?”
“An internal-combustion engine. You see, until she left him, he'd never been able to get set to figure out something in connection with the inlet valves——”
“Stop right there, Caliph. I'm rebuked. I'll let you get set to think——”
“I didn't mean that. You let me get set yesterday—and I figured it all out then—and last night—and a minute ago. I don't care to do any more thinking to-day. Please talk to me.”
“And you refuse to tell me why you cabled your friend Jerome?”
“You will never know. I told you it's a secret.”
“Bet you I find out.”
“How much? That ten thousand dollars you expect to make from the flour-gold in your black-sand claim? And by the way, ten dollars, please. I won it for guessing you were interested in a mining proposition.”