possibility of "big money," and they needed money! They needed, as
Bert said, to get out of the ranks, to push in before the next
fellow pushed in. She had a vision of herself telling the other
women of the Gardens that Mr. Bradley had gone into business for
himself; that the Pearsalls were going to throw anything they
could his way. It sounded dignified--Bert with a letter head, and
an office in Broadway!

She was lost in a complacent dream when Bert's voice awakened her.

"So that, if Buck does lend it, that means the interest on fifty
thousand. ..."

"Fifty thousand?" Nancy repeated, alarmed.

"Well, perhaps not quite that. I've got to figure it as closely as
I can. ..." Nancy's colour had faded a trifle.

"Bert, you would be MAD to get into it, or into anything, as deep
as that!" she said breathlessly. Bert, dashed in the midst of his
confident calculations, turned something like a snarl upon her.

"Well, what am I going to do?" he asked angrily. "It's all very
well for you to sit there and advise me to keep out of it, but
what am I going to do? It's a chance, and I believe in taking it.
I know my market, I know how these things are handled. If I can
swing this in the next three or four years, I can swing other
things. It means that we step right into the rich class--"

"But if you fail--?" Nancy suggested, impressed in spite of