us out financially. Much obliged for your donation."
"Do I have a vote?" asked Jarrod, much amused by this frank explanation.
"Of course; but according to our constitution only men with sail-boats can be officers of the club. So you must vote for us."
"Once," remarked Diller, a fine looking chap who was intently interested in a squat bottle and a siphon, "I had money and ambition and no sail-boat. Who was I, anyhow? A landsman! A nobody! Didn't belong to a yacht club, or anything else."
"Except Mrs. Diller," interjected Geo. B., with a sly wink at Jarrod.
"Then I bought a sail-boat—"
"And a dingy," added Geo. B.
"And paid up the debts of the club and was made Commodore. Commodore Diller! Who was I then? Why, ev'rybody said: 'Morn'n', Com-mo-dore!' 'Have a smoke, Com-mo-dore!'