minute and sometimes tragedy!"

"Wait a moment," said Mr. Ellis; "I want to put that down. I'll use it
somewhere in the advertising." He wrote by the light of a match, while
we all sat rather stunned by both his personality and his alertness.
"Everything's grist that comes to my mill. I suppose you all remember
when I completed the speedway at Indianapolis and had the Governor of
Indiana lay a gold brick at the entrance? Great stunt that! But the best
part of that story never reached the public."

Bettina was leaning forward, all ears and thrills. "What was that?" she
asked.

"I had the gold brick stolen that night--did it myself and carried the
brick away in my pocket--only gold-plated, you know. Cost eight or nine
dollars, all told, and brought a million dollars in advertising. But the
papers were sore about some passes and wouldn't use the story. Too bad
we can't use the brick here. Still have it kicking about somewhere."

It was then, I think, that Jasper yawned loudly, apologized, said
good-night and lounged away across the lawn. Bettina hardly knew he was
going. She was bending forward, her chin in her palms, listening to Mr.
Ellis tell about a driver in a motor race breaking his wrist cranking a
car, and how he--Ellis--had jumped into the car and driven it to
victory. Even Aggie was enthralled. It seemed as if, in the last hour,
the great world of stress and keen wits and endeavor and mad speed had
sat down on our door-step.

As Tish said when we were going up to bed, why shouldn't Mr. Ellis brag?
He had something to brag about.