the telegraph
office. The measured words of Accountant Somers were still ringing
in his ears:

"A very quiet election; no opposition to our ticket. Directors'
meeting pro forma. Vice-President Selden cast majority vote
for new officers. Reports endorsed. Selden, president; yourself,
vice-president; Hugh Worthington, managing director. New officers
published to-morrow. Too late for afternoon press. Will go and
report to Mr. Wade."

The first official act of Vice-President Arthur Ferris had been
to order Accountant Somers to send a cheque for one month's extra
salary to each of the office force, and then to add, "I shall
be in Philadelphia for some days, remember; Lafayette House. Use
telegraph business cipher only. I will be too busy to come to the
telephone. Shall be at Cramp's yards taking a look with a view to
further investments there."

No flush of triumph colored Arthur Ferris' pale face as he pondered
over his dispatch to Hugh Worthington. He suddenly paused, with
his pencil in the air.

"By God! I have it! We will soft-soap this fellow. Violence in
quarrel is always a clumsy mistake. I need to keep in touch with
Clayton; at least, until old Hugh gets his claws upon him. What if
the fool resigns and throws all up in a huff? There is no way to
lure him out West then. It would not do to have anything happen to
him here. And I'll ring in the Auld Lang Syne a bit, also."

He smiled artfully as he read over his two telegrams before handing
them to the waiting operator. The anaemic girl was sadly disappointed
in their tenor. She had scented an intrigue in the presence of the
dapper young lawyer with his distinctly clubman air.

"Pshaw! only business," she murmured, as she dashed her hand into
the cash till for the change of a five-dollar bill.

But Arthur Ferris' resolute eyes recalled her to duty, as he
impatiently said, "Repeat them both back to me, at Lafayette House,
Philadelphia. Take out the extra charge, and please give me a press
copy of each."

"I'll run over to Philadelphia, drop in at the clubs, have a good
time, and then disappear via Pittsburgh 'for New York,'" he said.
"It will give time for Randall Clayton to cool off. And, after
all, the smooth way is the best way. I can hold him over till Hugh
works him 'on the easy pulley.'"

He was proud of these two telegrams, as he sat at his carefully-chosen
early dinner. He read them over with a secret glee.

"He is ours. No one can snatch him