“We won’t do it, and that’s flat,” says he. “You can all take your tools and go home. We’re paying as high wages to our carpenters as anybody in the country, and we can’t raise another cent. That’s final. We can live without building these houses, and if I didn’t have all that lumber coming to-day, to be paid for within thirty days, I wouldn’t even talk to you. But you think you got us by the short hairs.... I’ll show you. With the costs of building now, there ain’t any money in it, anyhow. That lumber will keep. It won’t spoil.” The two men turned around and walked out, and Mr. Bolger says to a young man at another desk: “Pretty kettle of fish. I wouldn’t give a hang if it wasn’t for that lumber. But it’s got to be paid for in thirty days, and we can’t borrow on buildings until they’re pretty well along. It’s going to pinch us like the mischief.” Catty got up and walked over to Mr. Bolger and Mr. Bolger bawled at him, “Well, what do you want around here?” “I come to take that lumber off of your hands,” says Catty. “Not that we want all of it, but jest to help you out we’ll take the whole mess—at a price.” “What lumber? What you talkin’ about?” “The lumber from Mr. Heminway. We kin use some of it, and the rest ’ll keep. Cash. Or we’ll settle with Heminway, jest as you say.” “Who are you?” bawled Mr. Bolger. “I’m representin’ Atkins & Phillips, and I got authority to make a deal,” says Catty. “I jest happened to hear what you said about that lumber, and I figgered it wa’n’t nothin’ more ’n decent to offer to help you out—as long as we could use the stuff.” “You did, did you? I’d like to know how a kid like you can use lumber enough to build twenty houses.” “Oh, we’re building houses right along, and we can store what we don’t use right off ... if the price is right. You’ll have to borrow money to pay for that stuff, and it ’ll cost you six per cent, to do that. Won’t it?” “Yes.” “Well, we’ll take it off your hands at five per cent, less ’n you paid or promised to pay. You’ll be savin’ one per cent, that way.” “Huh!” “When did you order this here lumber?” “March.” “Um!...” Catty’s eyes kind of twinkled. “If you don’t believe I’m responsible, telephone Mr. Heminway.” “I’ll just do that thing,” yelled Mr. Bolger. And he did. “Say,” he bellowed into the telephone when he got his connection, “there’s a kid out here wants lumber. Says you know him. What’s it all about? Some kind of a joke?” Mr. Heminway said something we couldn’t hear. “He’s all right, eh? His firm’s good?” Mr. Heminway said yes, I guess, for Mr. Bolger hung up the receiver and turned around to us. “It’s a deal,” says he. “You take the invoices and pay ’em to Heminway less five per cent., and I’ll give you a check for that. Suit you?” “Yes. Glad to have a chance to help you out, Mr. Bolger. Will you write a letter to Mr. Heminway, telling him about the deal and puttin’ in the price you agreed to pay him, and all about it?”