ize that banks need modernizing. None! Skip
all that and get back to me as your son-in-law."

Mr. Goodchild, thinking of his two plans which were his one hope, asked,
abruptly:

"Are you a man of your word?"

"Since I have brains, I am. Are you?"

"I object to your methods. Your speech I might overlook, though it comes
hard. I am speaking plainly. Now you are known as the Sandwich Man. That
would bar you from my club and from ever becoming a really--"

"But that will stop. It will stop to-day. I have told Grace that within
a month nobody will ever connect my name with sandwiches."

"Will you agree not to marry or seek to marry my daughter, or annoy us
in any way--in short, if a month from now you are still famous as the
organizer of the sandwiches, will you stop trying to be my son-in-law?"

"Sure thing!" promised H. R., calmly. Mr. Goodchild was distrustful and
looked it, which made H. R. add, impressively: "I'll give you my word
that after to-day I'll never even try to see you or Grace, or write to
her, or revenge myself on you. So far as I am concerned I'll cease to
exist for you. And here's my hand on it."

He held out his hand in such a manner that Mr. Goodchild took it and
shook it with the warmth of profound relief. Then he said, heartfully:

"If you do that--"

"Don't worry! It won't kill my business. I'll be just as famous as
ever."

"The newspapers made you. Their silence will unmake you."

"Oh no!" And H. R. smiled as one smiles at a child.

Mr. Goodchild almost felt as though his head had been kindly patted.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Sandwiching is here to stay and--and my companies are organized. I'll
change the dummy directors as soon as you and I decide which of your
friends and clients shall be permitted to buy some of the stock my men
haven't sold. For cash, understand! The newspapers have done their work.
The newspapers in this instance are like incubators. I put in an egg.
The incubator hatched it. Then I took the chick out of the incubator.
Suppose the incubator now refuses to keep up the temperature of 102-1/2
degrees Fahrenheit necessary to hatch the egg? Suppose the incubator
gets stone cold? Well, let it! The chick is out and growing. And let me
tell you right now that I am not going to let Wall Street financiers get
their clutches on my chick. They'd caponize it. Talking about interest
rates--"

"How big a balance do you expect to keep with us?" asked Mr. Goodchild.
He did not