tary of the Second Ward Suffrage Club."

"Umm! Yes, yes!" With which illuminating comment, Mr. Jaffry tapped on
Penny Evans' door, opened it and entered.

"Spare a minute?" he inquired.

"Sure," said Penny; "two, ten! Take a chair."

"No," replied Mr. Jaffry, "I won't take a chair. Think better on
my feet. I'm in a bit of a quandary. Suppose you tell me what this
important paper is that George is drawing up. Do you know?"

"I do."

"Is he coming out against suffrage?"

"Flatly."

"Umm!" Mr. Jaffry flicked his cap about. "I want to see George. He
mustn't do that."

"Say, Mr. Jaffry, you haven't swung over----"

"Not at all. It's tactics. I ought to see him."

"Why not run out to his house----"

"Just been there. Ran away. Some one there I'm afraid of."

"Telephone?"

Mr. Jaffry shook his head and lowered his voice.

"With Betty hearing it at this end, and the committee from the Antis
sitting it out down there--the telephone's on the stair landing----"

He pursed his lips, waved his cap slowly to and fro and observed it
with a whimsical expression on his sandy face, then glanced out of the
window. He stepped closer, looking sharply down. A very fat boy with
pink cheeks and a downcast expression was sitting on a fire-plug. Mr.
Jaffry leaned out.

"Pudge," he called, "come up here a minute."

On the Remington and Evans stationery he penciled a note, which he
sealed. Then he scribbled another--to Mrs. George Remington, asking her
to hand George the inclosure the moment he appeared from his work. The
two he slipped into a large envelope. The very fat boy stood before him.

"Want to make a quarter, Pudge? Take this letter, right now, to Mrs.
George Remington. Give it to her personally. It's the old Remington
place, you know."

He felt in his change pocket. It was empty. He hesitated, turned to
Evans, then, reconsidering, produced a dollar bill from another pocket
and gave it to the boy.

"Now run," he said.

The boy, speechless, turned and moved out of the office. His sister
spoke to him, but he did not turn his head. He rolled down the stairs to
the street, stood a moment in front of Humphrey's, drew a sudden breath
that was almost a gasp, waddled into the store, advanced directly on the
soda fountain, and with a blazing red face and angrily triumphant eyes
confronted Billy Simmons.

"I'll take a chocolate marshmallow nut sundae," he said. "And you
needn't be stingy with the marshmallow, either!