een suddenly shut off.

Sam strode into the dining-room and went straight over to Blackrock's
table.

"I find I have some pressing business right after luncheon," he said,
bending over that gentleman's chair. "I can't possibly meet you at two
o'clock. Will four do you?"

"Why, certainly," Mr. Blackrock was kind enough to say, and he
furthermore agreed, with equal graciousness, to inform the others.

Sam ate his luncheon in worried silence, replying only in monosyllables
to the remarks of McComas, who sat at his table, and of Mrs. McComas,
who had taken quite a young-motherly fancy to him; and the amount that
he ate was so much at variance with his usual hearty appetite that even
the maid who waited on his table, a tall, gangling girl with a vinegar
face and a kind heart, worried for fear he might be sick, and added
unordered delicacies to his American plan meal. He went over to Hollis
Creek in the swiftest conveyance he could obtain, which was naturally
an auto, but he did not have 'Ennery for his chauffeur, of which he was
heartily glad, for 'Ennery might have wanted to talk.

On the porch of Hollis Creek Inn he found Princeman and Mr. Stevens in
earnest conversation. He knew what that meant. Princeman was already
discussing with Mr. Stevens the matter of control of the Marsh Pulp
Company. Princeman rose when Sam stepped up on the porch, and strolled
away from Mr. Stevens. He nodded pleasantly to Turner, and the latter,
returning the nod fully as pleasantly, was about to hurry on in search
of Miss Josephine, when Mr. Stevens checked him.

"Hello, Sam," he called. "I've just been waiting to see you."

"All right," said Sam. "I'll be around presently."

"No, but come here," insisted Mr. Stevens.

Sam cast a nervous glance about the grounds and along the side porch;
Miss Josephine most certainly was not among those present. He still
hesitated, impatient to get away.

"Just a minute, Sam," insisted Stevens. "I want to talk to you right
now."

With unwilling feet Sam went over.

"Sit down," directed Stevens, pushing forward a chair.

"What is it?" asked Sam, still standing.

"I have been talking with Princeman and Westlake about your Marsh Pulp
Company."

"Yes," inquired Sam nervously.

"And everybody seems to be most enthusiastic about it. Fact of the
matter is, my boy, I consider it a tremendous investment opportunity.
The only drawback there seems to be is in the matter of stock
distribut