at all the same thing. Something very much bigger than I or any
other one man. I found that out at the breakfast."

That breakfast! Socialistic, anarchistic, anti-Christian, were the
climactic adjectives employed by Dr. Surtaine to signify his disapproval
of the occasion.

"Sorry you didn't like it, Dad. You heard nothing but plain facts."

"Plain slush! Just look at this railroad accident article
broad-mindedly, Boyee. You own some Mid-and-Mud stock."

"Thanks to you, Dad."

"Paying eight per cent. How long will it go on paying that if the
newspapers keep stirring up trouble for it? Anti-railroad sentiment is
fostered by just such stuff as the 'Clarion' printed. What if the
engineer _was_ worked overtime? He got paid for it."

"And seven people got killed for it. I understand the legislature is
going to ask why, mainly because of our story and editorial."

"There you are! Sicking a pack of demagogues onto the Mid-and-Mud. How
can it make profits and pay your dividends if that kind of thing keeps
up?"

"I don't know that I need dividends earned by slaughtering people," said
Hal slowly.

"Maybe you don't need the dividends, but there's plenty of people that
do, people that depend on 'em. Widows and orphans, too."

"Oh, that widow-and-orphan dummy!" cried Hal. "What would the poor,
struggling railroads ever do without it to hide behind!"

"You talk like Ellis," reproved his father. "Boyee, I don't want you to
get too much under his influence. He's an impractical will-o'-the-wisp
chaser. Just like all the writing fellows."

By this time they had reached the "Clarion" Building.

"Come in, Dad," invited Hal, "and we'll talk to Ellis about Old Home
Week. He's with you there, anyway."

"Oh, he's all right aside from his fanatical notions," said the other as
they mounted the stairs.

The associate editor nodded his greetings from above a pile of left-over
copy.

"Old Home Week?" he queried. "Let's see, when does it come?"

"In less than six months. It isn't too early to give it a start, is it?"
asked Hal Surtaine.

"No. It's news any time, now."

"More than that," said Dr. Surtaine. "It's advertising. I can turn every
ad. that goes out to the 'Clarion.'"

"Last year we got only the pickings," remarked Ellis.

"Last year your owner wasn't the son of the committee's chairman."

"By the way, Dad, I'll have to resign that secretaryship. Every minute
of my spare time I'm going to put in around this offic