ave that preferential rate or go out of
business."

"With whom did you make the contract two years ago?"

"With Mr. McVickar, verbally. Of course, there wasn't anything put down
in black and white, but the railroad folks did their part and we did
ours."

"I see--a gentleman's agreement," she murmured; and then: "You have
tried Mr. McVickar again?"

"Yes, and he referred me to Gantry."

"And what did Mr. Gantry say?"

"I couldn't get him to say anything with any sense in it," said the
lumber magnate grittingly. "The most I could get out of him was that I
would have to see the boss."

"And instead of doing that you went to see the senator?" she asked.

"Of course I did. Who else would Gantry mean by 'the boss'?" demanded
the befogged one.

"Possibly he meant the senator's son," she ventured, tapping a pretty
cheek with the folded fan. "Have you been leaving Evan Blount out in all
of this?"

"I didn't know where to put him in. That's what brings me here to-night.
The senator, or McVickar, or both of them together, have set the whole
State to running around in circles with this appointment of young
Blount. Some say it's a deal between the senator and McVickar, and some
say it's a fight. Half of the professional spellbinders are walking in
their sleep over it right now. I thought maybe you could tell me, Mrs.
Blount."

"I can't tell you anything that would help the people who are walking in
their sleep," she returned, "but I might offer a suggestion in your
personal affair. Mr. Evan Blount is your man."

Hathaway pursed his thin lips and frowned. "I'm in bad there--right at
the jump," he objected.

"I know," she shot back quickly. "For some reason best known to
yourself, you saw fit to have Mr. Evan waylaid and man-handled on the
first night of his return to his native State. But you needn't worry
about that. He won't hold it against you. I'm sure you'll find him
entirely amenable to reason."

The tyrant of "timber-jacks" frowned again. "H'm--reason, eh? How big a
block of Twin Buttes stock shall I offer him?"

Her laugh was a silvery peal of derision.

"You always figure in dollars and cents, don't you, Mr. Simon Peter
Hathaway?" she mocked.

"I have always found it the cheapest in the end."

"Listen," she said, with the folded fan held up like a monitory finger.
"Mr. Gantry may be back any minute, and I can give you only the tiniest
hint. You must go to Mr. Evan Blount and appeal to him frankly, as