"
"I'm with you," said Perkins, "what is your scheme?"
"I have none," I said sadly, "that is just my trouble. I have sat here
for days trying to think of a good practical scheme, but I can't. I
don't believe there is an unworked scheme in the whole wide, wide
world."
Perkins waved his hand.
"My boy," he exclaimed, "there are millions! You've thousands of 'em
right here in your office! You're falling over them, sitting on them,
walking on them! Schemes? Everything is a scheme. Everything has money
in it!"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"Yes," I said, "for you. But you are a genius."
"Genius, yes," Perkins said smiling cheerfully, "else why Perkins the
Great? Why Perkins the originator? Why the Great and Only Perkins of
Portland?"
"All right," I said, "what I want is for your genius to get busy. I'll
give you a week to work up a good scheme."
Perkins pushed back his hat and brought his feet to the floor with a
smack.
"Why the delay?" he queried, "time is money. Hand me something from your
desk."
I looked in my pigeonholes and pulled from one a small ball of string.
Perkins took it in his hand and looked at it with great admiration.
"What is it?" he asked seriously.
"That," I said humoring him, for I knew something great would be evolved
from his wonderful brain, "is a ball of red twine I bought at the
ten-cent store.
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