to be made joint defendants with the Conference companies in a
conspiracy suit."

Mr. Wintermuth said nothing for a long minute; then his face broke into
almost the first sincere smile which had been seen on it since the
opening of the year.

"That's very well done--a good idea and well executed, Richard," he
said.

"Thank you, sir," said Smith.

There was more discussion to follow, and the two went over the
situation as a whole more fully than had been hitherto possible.

"Of course," Smith pointed out, "this is just a beginning. But
Philadelphia and Pittsburgh are safe--that's something. And Baltimore
will never dare make a move after this, for Maryland always follows
Pennsylvania. No, our chief problem at present is New York and New
England."

"Yes," agreed the older man. His face darkened. "Boston! How about
Boston? What can we do up there?"

"I don't know," returned Smith, slowly. "But there's one thing we can
do, and do at once. We can close the Sternberg, Bloom, and McCoy
agency. We can decapitate that crew in forty-eight hours, and with
your permission I'll go up there and do it myself."

"Go ahead," said the President.

That night Mr. Wintermuth enjoyed the first peaceful rest for almost
three months. Smith, on the contrary, perhaps through his anxiety to
put his Boston agency house in order, remained sleepless far into the
small, still hours. Nevertheless he departed next day for Boston on
the three o'clock express, arriving in Boston at eight, although he
might as well have taken a later train, for it was certain that neither
Sternberg, Bloom, nor McCoy would be apt to remain in their offices
until that hour of night. Doubtless it was for this reason that he
left the train at the Huntington Avenue station and turned west toward
Deerfield Street.

Fifteen minutes later he was waiting in the reception hall of an
apartment house, the construction of which he had once, in the Guardian
office at New York, quite minutely described for the edification of a
certain young lady visitor. In due course of time he was conveyed to
the proper floor, and a moment later found himself shaking hands with
the identical young lady.

"Mother, this is Mr. Richard Smith of New York, a friend of Uncle
Silas, of whom I told you."

Smith found himself bowing to a little gray lady whose manner was so
gentle that he unconsciously lowered his voice in speaking to her. She
was dressed all in gray, and her ha