econd book on the same terms, if he chooses to take
it. That's another trick of his. Look here,' Mr. Snyder smiled
persuasively, 'I'll thank you to go right home and get that second book
done. Make it as short as you can. When that's out of the way---- Ah!'
He clasped his hands in a sort of ecstasy.

'I will,' said Henry obediently. But a dreadful apprehension which had
menaced him for several weeks past now definitely seized him.

'And I perceive further,' said Mr. Snyder, growing sarcastic, 'that in
case Mr. Onions Winter chooses to copyright the book in America, you are
to have half-royalties on all copies sold over there. Now about
America,' Mark continued after an impressive pause, at the same time
opening a drawer and dramatically producing several paper-covered
volumes therefrom. 'See this--and this--and this--and this! What are
they? They're pirated editions of _Love in Babylon_, that's what they
are. You didn't know? No, of course not. I'm told that something like a
couple of hundred thousand copies have been sold in America up to date.
I brought these over with me as specimens.'

'Then Onions Winter didn't copyright----'

'No, sir, he didn't. That incredible ass did not. He's just issued what
he calls an authorized edition there at half a dollar, but what will
that do in the face of this at twenty cents, and this wretched pamphlet
at ten cents?' Snyder fingered the piracies. 'Twopence in the shilling
on two hundred thousand copies at half a dollar means over three
thousand pounds. That's what you might well have made if Providence,
doubtless in a moment of abstraction, had not created Onions Winter an
incredible ass, and if you had not vainly imagined that because you were
a lawyer you had nothing to learn about contracts.'

'Still,' faltered Henry, after he had somewhat recovered from these
shrewd blows, 'I shall do pretty well out of the English edition.'

'Three thousand pounds is three thousand pounds,' said Mark Snyder with
terrible emphasis. And suddenly he laughed. 'You really wish me to act
for you?'

'I do,' said Henry.

'Very well. Go home and finish book number two. And don't let it be a
page longer than the first one. I'll see Onions Winter. With care we may
clear a couple of thousand out of book number two, even on that precious
screed you call an agreement. Perhaps more. Perhaps I may have a
pleasant little surprise for you. Then you shall do a long book, and
we'll begin to make money, r