ave to be done for the good
of all."

"What is it you want of me?"

"Call in your bad debts," the other promptly responded; "shake off the
worthless lot hanging to your pocket. Put the money rate back where it
belongs. Why, in days gone by," Valentine Simmons chuckled, "seventy per
cent wasn't out of the way for a forced loan, forty was just so-so. Ah,
Pompey and me made some close deals. Pompey multiplied his talents. The
County was an open ledger to him."

"Didn't you ever think of the men who had to pay you seventy per cent?"
Gordon asked, genuinely curious.

"Certainly," Simmons retorted; "we educated them, taught 'em thrift. While
you are promoting idleness and loose-living.... But this is only an
opening for what I wanted to say.--I had a letter last week from the
Tennessee and Northern people, the Buffalo plan has matured, they're
pushing the construction right along."

"I intended to come to you about that."

"Well?"

"I ain't going on with our agreement."

Simmons' face exhibited not a trace of concern.

"I may say," he returned smoothly, "that I am not completely surprised. I
have been looking for something of the kind. I must remind you that our
partnership is a legal and binding instrument; you can't break it, nor
throw aside your responsibility, with a few words. It will be an expensive
business for you."

"I'm willing to pay with what I've got."

The other held up a palm in his familiar, arresting gesture. "Nothing of
that magnitude; nothing out of the way; I only wanted to remind you that a
compensation should follow your decision. It puts me in a very nice
position indeed. I gather from your refusal to continue the partnership
that you do not intend to execute singly the original plan; it is possible
that you will not hold the options against the coming of transportation."

"You've got her," Gordon declared; "I'm not going to profit seventy times
over, tie up all that timber, from the ignorance of men that ought to
rightly advantage from it. I--I--" Gordon rose to his feet in the
harassing obscurity of his need; "I don't want to make! I don't want to
take anything ... never again! I want--"

"You forget, unfortunately, that I am forced to be accessory to your--your
change of heart. I may say that I shall have to pay dearly for your--your
eleventh hour conversion. Timber will be--unsteady."

"Didn't you mention getting something out of it?"

"A mere detail to my effort, my time. What my