t out.

Coleman turned angrily to Prim, who was standing reared back, feet wide
apart, hands in his pockets, grinning broadly.

"What's she doing in here?" he demanded.

"Wanted me to help the cause!" he answered shamelessly.

"What'd she have in that bag?"

"Dirty linen--wash day. Taking it to the Co-Citizens' Laundry!"

"Didn't know they had one."

"Yes, they have. She's soliciting patronage!"

"Well, I'll be damned! You don't mean to tell me that woman was up here
to get----"

"My soiled office linen," Prim obligingly finished. "She was, and I let
her have every scrap of it," he answered symbolically.

He turned, seized his collar and tie, and reached for the button at the
back of his neck.

"Look here, Mike, things aren't going right in this town," Coleman
began, having lighted a fresh cigar without offering one to Prim, who
went on adjusting his collar. "We had a meeting last night and the
general opinion was that you are not holding the situation down as we
expected you would."

When there was no reply from Prim, who was holding his head back and
struggling to make ends meet over his front collar button, he went on:

"We don't blame you, but the fact is we want to make a change."

"Good idea!" said Prim.

"Glad you feel that way. Knew you would, but the boys thought you might
be willing to dispose of the records and papers that have accumulated
here." Coleman looked up and caught Prim's eye fixed upon him. "They're
of no value to you. And we are prepared to offer you, well, more than
they are worth. We----"

"Want my memoirs, do you?" laughed Prim, seizing his coat.

"That's it, for the archives, you know. How much will you take for
them?"

"I wouldn't sell them to you, Stark Coleman, for all the cash you could
rake and scrape out of your measly little old Co-Citizens' Bank!" he
answered, thrusting his arms into the sleeves of his coat, hunching it
up on his shoulders, and making for the door.

Coleman could not believe his ears, and now he could not believe his
eyes. The man was actually leaving the room. He took the cigar from his
mouth, and lifted his hand in a commanding gesture.

"Hold on, Prim!"

"Hold on yourself if you can! I'm off! A henpecked town is no place for
a _man_!" he sneered, banging the door.

Coleman stood a moment stupefied. He heard Prim thundering downstairs.
Then suddenly he returned to his senses. He rushed to the desk, and
pulled out one drawer after another.