peak over the 'phone the things that passed, and asked me
to dine. I just had to fall for that. You see, this thing meant so much
to me. It was the first big thing I'd handled, and--and I was so crazy
to make good for you. So I promised. And it wasn't till after it was all
fixed I realised the mean way I'd acted. You'll forgive me, won't you,
Mr. Peterman? I just hadn't a notion to be mean, and I was all tired to
death. But I had to hear about the things you'd fixed."

"And you heard?"

The man was leaning on the desk with one hand supporting his head. Not
one shadow of condemnation or resentment was permitted in voice or look.
And the girl was completely disarmed. But her smile died out and a swift
apprehension, that had no relation to herself, replaced it. In a moment
her mind had gone back to the declaration of war which was to involve
the two enterprises.

"Yes. He told me."

"And--?"

"Oh, it's all wrong. It's all foolish, and wrong, and just terrible,"
she broke in impulsively. Then she became calmly thoughtful, and her
even brows drew together in an effort to straighten out the things she
wanted to say. She shook her head. "I'm sure he can be handled," she
went on deliberately. "Oh, yes. In spite of the things they say of him."

"What's that?"

"Why he's as ready to fight as to laugh."

"Who says that?"

"That's the way they speak of him."

"Who speaks that way?"

Nancy laughed.

"It was just a queer sort of missionary who told me. I met him when I
was at Arden Laval's camp. A man they call Father Adam."

Peterman nodded.

"And you guess he can be handled?"

"I think so." Nancy spread out her hands. "Oh, it's not for me to talk
this way to you, Mr. Peterman, but--but--"

"Go on." The man was patiently reassuring as the girl hesitated. "It's
good to hear you talk. And then it was you who got him to listen to our
proposal at all."

The compliment had prompt effect. The girl's cheeks flushed, and a light
of something approaching delight shone in the hazel depths of her eyes.

"I don't know," she cried. "But it seems to me he's sort of reasonable.
He's kind of full of ideals and that sort of notion. He's out for a big
purpose and all that. But I don't believe he'd turn down any business
arrangement that would hand him the thing he wants--"

"Business arrangement?" Peterman sat up. The laugh accompanying his
words was full of amiable derision. He shook his head. "If he won't sell
he's got to