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〃So　what　do　we　do　to　make　money？〃　Mike　asked。
〃I　don't　know；〃　I　said。　〃But　do　you　want　to　be　my　partner？〃
He　agreed　and　so　on　that　Saturday　morning；　Mike　became　my　first　business　partner。　We　spent　all　morning　ing　up　with　ideas　on　how　to　1'make　money。　Occasionally　we　talked　about　all　the　〃cool　guys〃　at　Jimmy's　beach　house　having　fun。　It　hurt　a　little；　but　that　hurt　was　good；　for　it　inspired　us　to　keep　thinking　of　a　way　to　make　money。　Finally；　that　afternoon；　a　bolt　of　lightning　came　through　our　heads。　It　was　an　idea　Mike　had　gotten　from　a　science　book　he　had　read。　Excitedly；　we　shook　hands；　and　the　partnership　now　had　a　business。
For　the　next　several　weeks；　Mike　and　I　ran　around　our　neighborhood；　knocking　on　doors　and　asking　our　neighbors　if　they　would　save　their　toothpaste　tubes　for　us。　With　puzzled　looks；　most　adults　consented　with　a　smile。　Some　asked　us　what　we　were　doing。　To　which　we　replied；　〃We　can't　tell　you。　It's　a　business　secret。〃
My　mom　grew　distressed　as　the　weeks　wore　on。　We　had　selected　a
site　next　to　her　washing　machine　as　the　place　we　would　stockpile　our　raw　materials。　In　a　brown　cardboard　box　that　one　time　held　catsup　bottles；　our　little　pile　of　used　toothpaste　tubes　began　to　grow。
Finally　my　mom　put　her　foot　down。　The　sight　of　her　neighbors'　；　messy；　crumpled　used　toothpaste　tubes　had　gotten　to　her。　〃What　are　you　boys　doing？〃　she　asked。　〃And　I　don't　want　to　hear　again　that　it's　a　business　secret。　Do　something　with　this　mess　or　I'm　going　to　throw　it　out。〃
Mike　and　I　pleaded　and　begged；　explaining　that　we　would　soon　have　enough　and　then　we　would　begin　production。　We　informed　her　that　we　were　waiting　on　a　couple　of　neighbors　to　finish　using　up　their　toothpaste　so　we　could　have　their　tubes。　Mom　granted　us　a　one…week　extension。
The　date　to　begin　production　was　moved　up。　The　pressure　was　on。　My　first　partnership　was　already　being　threatened　with　an　eviction　notice　from　our　warehouse　space　by　my　own　mom。　It　became　Mike's　job　to　tell　the　neighbors　to　quickly　use　up　their　toothpaste；　saying　their　dentist　wanted　them　to　brush　more　often　anyway。　I　began　to　put　together　the　production　line。
One　day　my　dad　drove　up　with　a　friend　to　see　two　9…year…old　boys　。　in　the　driveway　with　a　production　line　operating　at　full　speed。　There　was　fine　white　powder　everywhere。　On　a　long　table　were　small　milk　cartons　from　school；　and　our　family's　hibachi　grill　was　glowing　with　red　hot　coals　at　maximum　heat。
Dad　walked　up　cautiously；　having　to　park　the　car　at　the　base　of　the　driveway；　since　the　production　line　blocked　the　carport。　As　he　and　his　friend　got　closer；　they　saw　a　steel　pot　sitting　on　top　of　the　coals；　with　the　toothpaste　tubes　being　melted　down。　In　those　days；　toothpaste　did　not　e　in　plastic　tubes。　The　tubes　were　made　of　lead。　So　once　the　paint　was　burned　off；　the　tubes　were　dropped　in　the　small　steel　pot；　melted　until　they　became　liquid；　and　with　my　mom's　pot　holders　we　were　pouring　the　lead　through　a　small　hole　in　the　top　of　the　milk　cartons。
The　milk　cartons　were　filled　with　plaster…of…Paris。　The　white　powder　everywhere　was　the　plaster　before　we　mixed　it　with　water。　In　my　haste；　I　had　knocked　the　bag　over；　and　the　entire　area　look　like　it　had　been　hit　by　a　snowstorm。　The　milk　cartons　were　the　outer　containers　for　plaster…of…Paris　molds。
My　dad　and　his　friend　watched　as　we　carefully　poured　the　molten　lead　through　a　small　hole　in　the　top　of　the　plaster…of…Paris　cube。
〃Careful；〃　my　dad　said。
I　nodded　without　looking　up。
Finally；　once　the　pouring　was　through；　I　put　the　steel　pot　down　and　smiled　at　my　dad。
〃What　are　you　boys　doing？〃　he　asked　with　a　cautious　smile。
〃We're　doing　what　you　told　me　to　do。　We're　going　to　be　rich；〃　I　said。
〃Yup；〃　said　Mike；　grinning　and　nodding　his　head。　〃We're　partners。〃
〃And　what　is　in　those　plaster　molds？〃　dad　asked。
〃Watch；〃　I　said。　〃This　should　be　a　good　batch。〃
With　a　small　hammer；　I　tapped　at　the　seal　that　divided　the　cube　in
half。　Cautiously；　I　pulled　up　the　top　half　of　the　plaster　mold　and　a　lead　nickel　fell　out。〃
〃Oh；　my　God！〃　my　dad　said。　〃You're　casting　nickels　out　of　lead。〃
〃That's　right；〃　Mike　said。　〃We　doing　as　you　told　us　to　do。　We're　making　money。〃
My　dad's　friend　turned　and　burst　into　laughter。　My　dad　smiled　and　shook　his　head。　Along　with　a　fire　and　a　box　of　spent　toothpaste　tubes；　in　front　of　him　were　two　little　boys　covered　with　white　dust　and　smiling　from　ear　to　ear。
He　asked　us　to　put　everything　down　and　sit　with　him　on　the　front　step　of　our　house。　With　a　smile；　he　gently　explained　what　the　word　〃counterfeiting〃　meant。
Our　dreams　were　dashed。　〃You　mean　this　is　illegal？〃　asked　Mike　in　a
quivering　voice。
〃Let　them　go；〃　my　dad's　friend　said。　〃They　might　be　developing　a　natural　talent。〃
My　dad　glared　at　him。
〃Yes；　it　is　illegal；〃　my　dad　said　gently。　〃But　you　boys　have　shown　great　creativity　and　original　thought。　Keep　going。　I'm　really　proud　of　you！〃
Disappointed；　Mike　and　I　sat　in　silence　for　about　twenty　minutes　before　we　began　cleaning　up　our　mess。　The　business　was　over　on　opening　day。　Sweeping　the　powder　up；　I　looked　at　Mike　and　said；　〃I　guess　Jimmy　and　his　friends　are　right。　We　are　poor。〃
My　father　was　just　leaving　as　I　said　that。　〃Boys；〃　he　said。　〃You're　only　poor　if　you　give　up。　The　most　important　thing　is　that　you　did　something。　Most　people　only　talk　and　dream　of　getting　rich。　You've　done　something。　I'm　very　proud　of　the　two　of　you。　I　will　say　it　again。
Keep　going。　Don't　quit。〃
Mike　and　I　stood　there　in　silence。　They　were　nice　words；　but　we　still　did　not　know　what　to　do。
〃So　how　e　you're　not　rich；　dad？〃　I　asked。
〃Because　I　chose　to　be　a　schoolteacher。　Schoolteachers　really　don't　think　about　being　rich。　We　just　like　to　teach。　I　wish　I　could　help　you；　but　I　really　don't　know　how　to　make　money。〃
Mike　and　I　turned　and　continued　our　clean　up。
〃I　know；〃　said　my　dad。　〃If　you　boys　want　to　learn　how　to　be　rich；　don't　ask　me。　Talk　to　your　dad；　Mike。〃
〃My　dad？〃　asked　Mike　with　a　scrunched　up　face。
〃Yeah；　your　dad；〃　repeated　my　dad　with　a　smile。　〃Your　dad　and　I　have　the　same　banker；　and　he　raves　about　your　father。　He's　told　me　several　times　that　your　father　is　brilliant　when　it　es　to　making　money。〃
〃My　dad？〃　Mike　asked　again　in　disbelief。　〃Then　how　e　we　don't　have　a　nice　car　and　a　nice　house　like　the　rich　kids　at　school？〃
〃A　nice　car　and　a　nice　house　does　not　necessarily　mean　you're　rich　or　you　know　how　to　make　money；〃　my　dad　replied。　〃Jimmy's　dad　works　for　the　sugar　plantation。　He's　not　much　different　from　me。　He　works　for　a　pany；　and　I　work　for　the　government。　The　pany　buys　the　car　for　him。　The　sugar　pany　is　in　financial　trouble；　and　Jimmy's　dad　may　soon　have　nothing。　Your　dad　is　different　Mike。　He　seems　to　be　building　an　empire；　and　I　suspect　in　a　few　years　he　will　be　a　very　rich　man。〃
With　that；　Mike　and　I　got　excited　again。　With　new　vigor；　we　began　cleaning　up　the　mess　caused　by　our　now　defunct　first　business。　As　we　were　cleaning；　we　made　plans　on　how　and　when　to　talk　to　Mike's　dad。　The　problem　was　that　Mike's　dad　worked　long　hours　and　often　did　not　e　home　until　late。　His　father　owned　warehouses；　a　construction　pany；　a　chain　of　stores；　and　three　restaurants。　It　was　the　restaurants　that　kept　him　out　late。
Mike　caught　the　bus　home　after　we　had　finished　cleaning　up。　He　was　going　to　talk　to　his　dad　when　he　got　home　that　night　and　ask　him　if　he　would　teach　us　how　to　bee　rich。　Mike　promised　to　call　as　soon　as　he　had　talked　to　his　dad；　even　if　it　was　late。
The　phone　rang　at　8：30　p。m。
〃OK；〃　I　said。　〃Next　Saturday。〃　And　put　the　phone　down。　Mike's　dad　had　agreed　to　meet　with　Mike　and　me。
At　7：30　Saturday　morning；　I　caught　the　bus　to　the　poor　side　of　town。
The　Lessons　Begin：

〃I'll　pay　you　10　cents　an　hour。　〃
Even　by　1956　pay　standards；　10　cents　an　hour　was　low。
Michael　and　I　met　with　his　dad　that　morning　at　8　o'clock。　He　was　already　busy　and　had　been　at　work　for　more　than　an　hour。　His　construction　supervisor　was　just　leaving　in　his　pickup　truck　as　I　walked　up　to　his　simple；　small　and　tidy　home。　Mike　met　me　at　the　door。
〃Dad's　on　the　phone；　and　he　said　to　wait　on　the　back　porch；〃　Mike　said　as　he　opened　the　door。
The　old　wooden　floor　creaked　as　I　steppedacross　the　threshold　of　this　aging　house。　There　was　a　cheap　mat　just　inside　the　door。　The　mat　was　there　to　hide　the　years　of　wear　from　countless　footsteps　that　the　floor　had　supported。　Although　clean；　it　needed　to　be　replaced。
I　felt　claustrophobic　as　I　entered　the　narrow　living　room；　which　was　filled　with　old　musty　overstuffed　furniture　that　today　would　be　collector's　items。　Sitting　on　the　couch　were　two　women；　a　little　older　than　my　mom。　Across　from　the　women　sat　a　man　in　workman's　clothes。　He　wore　khaki　slacks　and　a　khaki　shirt；　neatly　pressed　but　without　starch；　and　polished　work　books。　He　was　about　10　years　older　than　my　dad；　I'd　say　about　45　years　old。　They　smiled　as　Mike　and　I　walked　past　them；　heading　for　the　kitchen；　which　lead　to　the　porch　that　overlooked　the　back　yard。　I　smiled　back　shyly。
〃Who　are　those　people？〃　I　asked。
〃Oh；　they　work　for　my　dad。　The　older　man　runs　his　warehouses；　and　the　women　are　the　managers　of　the　restaurants。　And　you　saw　the　construction　supervisor；　who　is　working　on　a　road　project　about　50　miles　from　here。　His　other　supervisor；　who　is　building　a　track　of　houses；　had　already　left　before　you　got　here。〃
〃Does　this　go　on　all　the　time？〃　I　asked。
〃Not　always；　but　quite　often；〃　said　Mike；　smiling　as　he　pulled　up　a　chair　to　sit　down　next　to　me。
〃I　asked　him　if　he　would　teach　us　to　make　money；〃　Mike　said。
〃Oh；　and　what　did　he　say　to　that？〃　I　asked　with　cautious　curiosity。
〃Well；　he　had　a　funny　look　on　his　face　at　first；　and　then　he　said　he　would　make　us　an　offer。〃
〃Oh；〃　I　said；　rocking　my　chair　back　against　the　wall；　I　sat　there
perched　on　two　rear　legs　of　the　chair。
Mike　did　the　same　thing。
〃Do　you　know　what　the　offer　is？〃　I　asked。
〃No；　but　we'll　soon　find　out。〃
Suddenly；　Mike's　dad　burst　through　the　rickety　screen　door　and　onto　the　porch。　Mike　and　I　jumped　to　our　feet；　not　out　of　respect　but　because　we　were　startled。
〃Ready　boys？〃　Mike's　dad　asked　as　he　pulled　up　a　chair　to　sit　down
with　us。
We　nodded　our　heads　as　we　pulled　our　chairs　away　from　the　wall　to　sit　in　front　of　him。
He　was　a　big　man；　about　6　feet　tall　and　200　pounds。　My　dad　was　taller；　about　the　same　weight；　and　five　years　older　than　Mike's　dad。　They　sort　of　looked　alike；　though　not　of　the　same　ethnic　makeup。　Maybe　their　energy　was　similar。
〃Mike　says　you　want　to　learn　to　make　money？　Is　that　correct；　Robert？〃
I　nodded　my　head　quickly；　but　with　a　little　intimidation。　He　had　a　lot　of　power　behind　his　words　and　smile。
〃OK；　here's　my　offer。　I'll　teach　you；　but　I　won't　do　it　classroom…style。　You　work　for　me；　I'll　teach　you。　You　don't　work　for　me；　I　won't　teach　you。　I　can　teach　you　faster　if　you　work；　and　I'm　wasting　my　time　if　you　just　want　to　sit　and　listen；　like　you　do　in　school。　That's　my　offer。　Take　it　or　leave　it。〃
〃Ah。。。　may　I　ask　a　question　first？〃　I　asked。
〃No。　Take　it　or　leave　it。　I've　got　too　much　work　to　do　to　waste　my　time。　If　you　can't　make　up　you　mind　decisively；　then　you'll　never　learn　to　make　money　anyway。　Opportunities　e　and　go。　Being　able　to　know　when　to　make　quick　decisions　is　an　important　skill。　You　have　an　opportunity　that　you　asked　for。　School　is　beginning　or　it's　over　in　ten　seconds；〃　Mike's　dad　said　with　a　teasing　smile。
〃Take　it；〃　I　said。　　‘
〃Take　it；〃　said　Mike。
〃Good；〃　said　Mike's　dad。　〃Mrs。　Martin　will　be　by　in　ten　minutes。　After　I'm　through　with　her；　you　ride　with　her　to　my　superette　and　you　can　begin　working。　I'll　pay　you　10　cents　an　hour　and　you　will　work　for　three　hours　every　Saturday。〃
〃But　I　have　a　softball　game　today；〃　I　said。
Mike's　dad　lowered　his　voice　to　a　stern　tone。　〃Take　it　or　leave　it；〃　he
〃I'll　take　it；〃　I　replied；　choosing　to　work　and　learn　instead　of　playing　softball。

30　Cents　Later

By　9　a。m。　on　a　beautiful　Saturday　morning；　Mike　and　I　were　working　for　Mrs。　Martin。　She　was　a　kind　and　patient　woman。　She　always　said　that　Mike　and　I　reminded　her　of　her　two　sons　who　were　grown　and　gone。　Although　kind；　she　believed　in　hard　work　and　she　kept　us　working。　She　was　a　task　master。　We　spent　three　hours　taking　canned　goods　off　the　shelves　and；　with　a　feather　duster；　brushing　each　can　to　get　the　dust　off；　and　then　re…stacking　them　neatly。　It　was　excruciatingly　boring　work