Tish | Page 6

in the
cleanest sport we cannot prevent a man's having an opinion and
backing it with his own money. What I intended to do was to regulate it.
Regulate it."
Tish was quite mollified. "Well, of course," she said, "I suppose since it
must be, it is better--er,--regulated. But why haven't you succeeded?"
"An unfortunate thing happened just as I had the deal about to close,"
he replied, and drew a long breath. "The town had raised twenty-five
hundred. I was to duplicate the amount. But just at that time a--a young
brother of mine in the West got into difficulties, and I--but why go into
family matters? It would have been easy enough for me to pay my part
of the purse out of my share of the gate money; but the committee
demands cash on the table. I haven't got it."
Tish stood up in her car and looked out over the track.
"Twenty-five hundred dollars is a lot of money, young man."
"Not so much when you realize that the gate money will probably
amount to twelve thousand."
Tish turned and surveyed the grandstand.
"That thing doesn't seat twelve hundred."
"Two thousand people in the grandstand--that's four thousand dollars.
Four thousand standing inside the ropes at a dollar each, four thousand
more. And say eight hundred machines parked in the oval there at five
dollars a car, four thousand more. That's twelve thousand for the gate
money alone. Then there are the concessions to sell peanuts, toy
balloons, lemonade and palm-leaf fans, the lunch-stands,
merry-go-round and moving-picture permits. It's a bonanza! Fourteen
thousand anyhow."

"Half of fourteen thousand is seven," said Tish dreamily. "Seven
thousand less twenty-five hundred is thirty-five hundred dollars profit."
"Forty-five hundred, dear lady," corrected Mr. Ellis, watching her.
"Forty-five hundred dollars profit to be made in two weeks, and
nothing to do to get it but sit still and watch it coming!"
I can read Tish like a book and I saw what was in her mind. "Letitia
Carberry!" I said sternly. "You take my warning and keep clear of this
foolishness. If money comes as easy as that it ain't honest."
"Why not?" demanded Mr. Ellis. "We give them their money's worth,
don't we? They'd pay two dollars for a theater seat without half the
thrills--no chances of seeing a car turn turtle or break its
steering-knuckle and dash into the side-lines. Two dollars' worth? It's
twenty!"
But Tish had had a moment to consider, and the turning-turtle business
settled it. She shook her head. "I'm not interested, Mr. Ellis," she said
coldly. "I couldn't sleep at night if I thought I'd been the cause of
anything turning turtle or dashing into the side-lines."
"Dear lady!" he said, shocked; "I had no idea of asking you to help me
out of my difficulties. Anyhow, while matters are at a standstill
probably some shrewd money-maker here will come forward before
long and make a nice profit on a small investment."
As we drove away from the fair grounds Tish was very silent; but just
as we reached the Bailey place, with Bettina and young Jasper
McCutcheon batting a ball about on the tennis court, Tish turned to me.
"You needn't look like that, Lizzie," she said. "I'm not even thinking of
backing an automobile race--although I don't see why I shouldn't, so far
as that goes. But it's curious, isn't it, that I've got twenty-five hundred
dollars from Cousin Angeline's estate not even earning four per cent?"
I got out grimly and jerked at my bonnet-strings.

"You put it in a mortgage, Tish," I advised her with severity in every
tone. "It may not be so fast as an automobile race or so likely to turn
turtle or break its steering-knuckle, but it's safe."
"Huh!" said Tish, reaching for the gear lever. "And about as exciting as
a cold pork chop."
"And furthermore," I interjected, "if you go into this thing now that
your eyes are open, I'll send for Charlie Sands!"
"You and Charlie Sands," said Tish viciously, jamming at her gears,
"ought to go and live in an old ladies' home away from this cruel
world."
Aggie was sitting under a sunshade in the broiling sun at the tennis
court. She said she had not left Bettina and Jasper for a moment, and
that they had evidently quarreled, although she did not know when,
having listened to every word they said. For the last half-hour, she said,
they had not spoken at all.
"Young people in love are very foolish," she said, rising stiffly. "They
should be happy in the present. Who knows what the future may hold?"
I knew she was thinking of Mr. Wiggins and the icy roof, so I patted
her shoulder and sent her up to put cold cloths