eeds?"

"Because I don't think--"

"I guess you could manage to think as I wanted you to if it were worth
your while, couldn't you?" smiled the great man insinuatingly.

"I don't quite--"

"Turn it over in your mind. It is a straight business proposition. You
land your _March Hare_ here in my office as my property at the end of
June, and I will make it worth your while. Understand?" The great man
eyed the lad keenly.

"Not fully, I'm afraid."

"But you would before I got through with you," chuckled Mr. Carter,
rising.

Paul rose too. He was very glad to have the interview finished.

"We'll talk no more about this matter to-day," declared the editor
lightly. "You think over carefully what I've said and come and see me
again sometime."

"All right, sir."

Paul moved awkwardly toward the door. He wanted to add some word to
conceal how worried, angry, and upset he really was, but he could think
of nothing to say. It was ignominious to pass out of the room as if he
were a whipped puppy. Men always terminated their business talks
pleasantly, no matter how vexed they were with one another underneath.

He must show Mr. Carter that he also could close an interview in true
man's fashion. His hand was on the knob of the door now; but he turned.

"Oh, by the way, Mr. Carter," he said with an off-hand air, "do you know
where a person goes to sell a Liberty Bond?"

It was the only topic of conversation he could think of.

"Sell one?"

"Yes, sir." The boy blushed.

"In need of cash?"

"I--yes; I'm thinking of getting rid of a fifty-dollar bond I have."

"That's foolish. You'd much better keep it."

Paul shook his head with sudden resolve.

"I think if I can get rid of it without too much red tape, I'll let it
go."

"Want the money badly, eh?"

"Y--e--s."

"Your father know you are selling out?"

"No, sir."

The boy began to regret that he had spoken.

"Oh--ho! So you're in a scrape, eh?"

"No, it's not a scrape," protested Paul. "At least, not what you'd
commonly call a scrape. It is just that--"

"That you do not want to tell your father."

"Not now."

Mr. Carter winked.

"I see," he said.

He went to a drawer in his desk and innocently Paul watched his
movements, wondering what he was going to do. Give him an address where
he could sell his bond, no doubt.

Instead Mr. Carter slipped a crisp bill from a roll in the drawer and
held it toward him.

[Illustration: "But I can't take your