He gave the nearby chair a kick, avalanching the morning papers to the floor. “Have you read those?” queried Anice. “No. Why should I rub it in? I know what they——” “Why not look at them before you lose your temper?” Caleb snatched up the _Star_, foremost journal of Granite. He glanced down the last column of the front page, and over to the second. “Here’s the story of the show just as we dictated it beforehand,” he commented. “List of guests—Where in thunder is that measly speech? Have they given it a column to itself? Oh—way down at the bottom. ‘In a singularly happy little informal address at the close of the evening Mr. Conover mentioned his forthcoming candidacy for governor.’ Is that all any of them have got about it?” “They have your pledge to run for Governor blazoned over two columns of the front page of nearly all the papers. But nothing more about the speech itself.” “But how——” “I took the liberty of stopping the reporters before they left the house, and telling them it would be against your wish for any of your other remarks to be quoted.” “You did that? Miss Lanier, you’re fine! You’ve saved me a guying in every out-of-State paper in the East. I want to show my appreciation——” “If that means another offer to raise my salary, I am very much obliged. But, as I’ve told you several times before, I can’t accept it. Thank you just the same.” “But why not? I can afford——” “But I can’t. Don’t let’s talk of it, please.” “And every other soul in my employ spraining his brain to plan for a raise! The man who understands women—if he’s ever born—won’t need to read his Bible, for there’ll be nothing that even the Almighty can teach him.” “Shan’t we begin work? About this Fournier matter. He refuses to pay the $30,000, and we can’t even get him to admit he owes it. Shall I——” “Write and tell him unless he pays that $41,596 within thirty days——” “But it’s $30,000, not $41,000. He——” “I know that. And he’ll write us so by return mail. That’ll give us the acknowledgment we want of the $30,000 debt. What next?” “The Curtis-Bayne people of Hadley are falling behind on their contract with the C. G. & X.” “I guess they are,” chuckled Caleb. “They’re beginning to see a great light, just as I figured out. Well, let ’em squirm a bit.” “But the contract—you may remember Mr. Curtis asked to look at our copy of it when he was in Granite. He said he wanted to verify a clause he couldn’t quite recollect. You told me to send it to him, and I did.” “Yes, I remember.” “Well, he never returned it. And this morning we get this letter from him: ‘_In regard to your favor of the 9th inst., in which you speak of a contract, we beg to state you must have confused us with some other of your road’s customers. The Curtis-Bayne Company has no contract with the C. G. & X., and can find no record of one. If you have such a document kindly produce it._’”