tremendous. Mr. Wintermuth, Mr. Cuyler, and I all
know most of these people, but a mere acquaintance is nothing--to get
into a first-rate office and get their best business means that you've
got to have a strangle hold on the agent--nothing less will do."

Mr. Whitehill leaned back in his chair.

"I don't know exactly what constitutes a strangle hold," he said with a
smile; "but there's one firm up town that handles all my trustee
business, and I think they would hardly like to disoblige me. I fancy
the commissions on it must amount to rather a handsome amount, year in
and year out. And I think they must have an agency, because once or
twice I've noticed their name signed to policies they've sent me."

"Who are they?" another director asked. "Perhaps Mr. Wintermuth or Mr.
Smith may know them."

"Evans and Jones," replied Mr. Whitehill.

The President and his young subordinate looked at one another. Even
Mr. Wintermuth, who for some years past had given little attention to
the details of the local business, knew that the firm in question was
one of high standing.

"Of One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street?" Smith asked.

"Yes. You know them? They have an agency, then?" Mr. Whitehill
responded.

"They certainly have," replied the other. "They are as desirable
agents as there are up town, and they represent the Essex of England,
the Austrian National, and," he glanced at his chief, "the Salamander
of New York."

Mr. Wintermuth found no words.

"Now, Mr. Whitehill," said Smith, "they are the people we want as
branch managers. Our interests would be safe in their hands. But to
take us and do us justice they would probably have to resign one of the
companies they now represent. Do you think your influence with them is
sufficient to get them to do that?"'

Mr. Whitehill smiled somewhat grimly.

"My boy," he said, "I don't like to extol my personal influence; but if
I asked Evans and Jones anything within the bounds of reason and they
declined to do it, I admit that I should be surprised--very much
surprised."

This was the reason why, on a busy corner of the Street, only a week
later, two men came to a stop face to face, the elder regarding the
younger with a malignity that was indifferently concealed.

"Well, how's the boy underwriter?" said a sneering voice. "You think
you turned a pretty trick when you took my branch manager, eh?"

"I told you we'd have to get back at you," the other replied.