The Mystery of the Millionaire

of his dresser and handed it to Trixie.
    She wrinkled her nose when she saw the cover. “This is that dumb boy’s magazine that Uncle Mart still gives you a subscription to every Christmas. Don’t you think you’re getting a little old for it?”
    “I grant you that the editorial content is somewhat beneath my current intellectual plane,” Mart said. “However, a casual perusal of the posterior contents one evening introduced me to a veritable plethora of economic opportunities.”
    “There’s something interesting in the back of the magazine?” Trixie guessed.
    Mart nodded, and Trixie turned to the last few pages, which consisted of dozens of ads in print so tiny that she had to hold the magazine almost to her nose to read them. “ ‘Opportunity Knocks.’ ‘Money in Your Mailbox.’ ‘Start Your Career Today.’ ” Trixie paused in her reading of the headlines and looked up at Mart, still confused as to what he was trying to tell her.
    Mart reached across her and turned the page of the magazine. He pointed at one of the ads, which had been circled in red.
    Trixie read the ad to herself. “Guaranteed Profits,” the headline said. The small print underneath added:

Start your own business at home for just $10.00. We supply materials, you assemble them, we buy back the finished product. 500% profit guaranteed for proper assembly. Write today for further details.

    An address in New York City followed. Trixie looked up again. “Did you write to them?” she asked.
    Again Mart nodded. He walked to his desk, opened the top drawer, and pulled out an envelope, which he handed to Trixie.
    She took the letter out of the envelope and read it aloud:

“Dear Mr. Belden:
“Thank you for responding to our request for home assemblers for our gift items.
“In our many years in business, we have come to believe strongly in home assembly as a sound economic policy. It enables us to keep our overhead low, since we do not need expensive office space for our employees. It also provides worthwhile careers for people who otherwise might find employment difficult.
“For just ten dollars, which barely covers the cost of materials, mailing, and handling, we will send you everything you need to assemble five lovely decoupage plaques, each bearing the inspiring message of our founding fathers, the Declaration of Independence.
“This is one of our best-selling gift items, so the quantity we buy is limited only by how many you produce. When the kits are properly assembled, just send them back to Carlson Crafts, postage paid, and you will receive fifty dollars by return mail—a profit of five hundred percent on your investment.
“We look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
John Brown
President, Carlson Crafts
“P.S. We prefer to work with no more than fifty home assemblers at one time, so that we can give each of you personal attention. For that reason, we urge you to mail your check immediately.”

    When Trixie finished reading, Mart picked up the box from its place beside the bed and hoisted
    it onto his lap. “I sent them the ten dollars a couple of weeks ago, and my first five kits came today. See?” Mart took wood plaques, sheets of parchment with the Declaration of Independence printed on them, a bottle of glue, and a sheet of instructions out of the box, one by one, and held them up for Trixie to see. His face shone with excitement, and, Trixie noted, he wasn’t even bothering with his big words.
    “It’s very nice,” she said slowly. “But I don’t understand why you’ve been so secretive about it.”
    Mart returned the items carefully to the box and put the box back on the floor. “Need I remind you that our parents are, shall we say, fiscally conservative?”
    “You mean they wouldn’t approve of your spending your money this way,” Trixie guessed.
    “Precisely,” Mart said. “And, of course, they’re right. Most of these get-rich-quick schemes are just that—schemes. They ask you to send in money, but they don’t really tell you what you get in return. Certainly they don’t offer guarantees. But Carlson Crafts spelled it all out in that letter, before they asked me for a cent. And my profit is guaranteed!”
    His excitement increasing, Mart jumped up from the bed and went to his desk, returning with another sheet of paper. “Look,” he said, “I’ve worked it all out. I’m sure I can do five plaques a week. That’s less than one a day. So that’s forty dollars a week. Let’s