The coward son could not endure that terrible visitation of parental wrath, and fled, without another word, from the shop.

Old Van Quintem fell exhausted upon the strong shoulder of the boy Bog.

“Henceforth,” said he, “you—­you—­shall be my son.”

[Illustration:  FATHER AND SON.]

BOOK TWELFTH,

SPECULATIONS—­PECUNIARY AND MATRIMONIAL.

CHAPTER I.

THE “COSMOPOLITAN WINDOW FASTENER.”

The “Cosmopolitan Window Fastener” was a veritable success.  For the first time in his life, Mr. Wesley Tiffles’s theories had been demonstrated by results.  Had the “Cosmopolitan Window Fastener” been his own invention, and disposed of for his own behoof, he would have abandoned it long before its merits had been fairly tested, and tried some other of the myriad schemes that floated through his brain.  But the profits of the “Cosmopolitan Window Fastener” went to another; and this was the secret of Wesley Tiffles’s persistent (and therefore successful) exertions.

This was his plan of operations:  In the first place, from the funds supplied by Marcus Wilkeson, he procured a patent for the invention.  In the second place, he put an advertisement a column long in every daily paper—­six insertions paid in advance—­and handed a highly polished brass model of the invention to the editor, with a request to notice, if perfectly agreeable.  The just and logical result followed.  Instead of the ten-line paragraph with which patent churns and washing machines are ordinarily turned loose on society, the “Cosmopolitan Window Fastener” received notices so long and ornate, that it was quite impossible to derive from them a correct idea of the matchless simplicity of the invention.

Having thus roused public curiosity, Tiffles, in the third place, took an office on Broadway, and put up a large sign inscribed in gilt capitals, “The Cosmopolitan Window Fastener Manufacturing Co.”  From this pou sto, Archimedes-like, he commenced to move the world of house owners.  This he accomplished by the following manoeuvre:  He caused double-leaded advertisements, under the head of special notices, to be inserted in all the papers, informing the public that it would be utterly impossible to supply the demand for the “Cosmopolitan Window Fastener,” and that, therefore, it would be useless to send in orders.  The Company were employing all the resources of two large manufacturing establishments; but it was evident that these would fail to meet the extraordinary and totally unexpected demand for this indispensable protection against burglars—­this moral safeguard, as it might not inappropriately be called, of civilized homes.  The Company had made every effort, but without success, to secure a force of skilled workmen equal to the emergency.  Justice to their customers in all parts of the country, compelled the Company to announce that no orders received after that date could be filled under two months.  Under these remarkable—­they might say, in some respects, disagreeable—­circumstances, they begged leave to throw themselves on the indulgence of a generous public.