best friend. Just let me see what you would do for a young feller who would give himself to you, body and soul. No one is poorer than me these days. All I got is the suit on me back. I only rented that bear rig for the evenin'."
"Well, Tony, how much would you expect?"
"Two hundred bucks a month."
I argued for one hundred—all that at the time I cared to part with, although my infatuation soon after augmented so that I voluntarily presented him three times my first offer. But on this first night I repeatedly assured him coaxingly, though sincerely, that he was just the type of young fellow that appealed to me. Over and over again he replied: "I wouldn't sell me goodwill so cheap! All your fine talk, Mr. Skirt, doesn't get us anywhere. It doesn't have the least effect on me. Only money talks. If you'll part with two hundred bucks, I'll know you think that much of me. Besides, if we don't fix up matters now, don't ever show your face again on Wall Street!"
But when he had bluffed to his limit, he accepted my first offer. And I didn't mind the promise of that stipend to him—so winsome and handsome and assuring me he would be my soul-mate.
Because his "lady" was dancing attendance, our conversation had to be broken off before the end of five minutes. In parting, I said: "The more I have heard you converse, the better I like you, Tony. You are a pretty smart boy. I would be glad to give you an education, so that you can rise to my own social level instead of continuing in the servant class. We shall not regard our agreement as blackmail. Instead I now adopt you as my sole well-beloved son. I will
