"Of course I'm right!" she replied, "and you know it. You've made him a martyr and a hero on the first day of his fall from power. Your true policy is just the opposite. Let him do what he pleases for a time. Above all things don't put yourself in the position of his enemy. Your strength lies in standing as his patron and friend." "By Jove, Barbara," Wolf cried, "what a wise head on your little shoulders! Come, be honest with me now--you're not in love with this man?" The girl smiled demurely: "He is with me, I think," she admitted. "Yes, yes, of course--so we all are," he cried, with a smile. "But you have not accepted his love?" "No." "I thought you had better sense. I'll change my order at your suggestion." "I knew you would," she cried, joyfully. Wolf sat down at his desk and wrote: "Comrade Norman Worth is transferred from the field to the foundry, with permission, after his day's work, to employ his time in the shops perfecting any invention in which he may be interested. "WOLF--_Regent_." He handed the order to Barbara. "Take this to the youngster and tell him I did it at your suggestion, and hereafter give him a wide berth if you wish to be friendly with me." Barbara dropped her eyes and Wolf touched her chin with his coarse, short fingers. "A hint to the wise is sufficient, little girl. You understand?" Barbara took the order, turned toward the door, paused and smiled coquettishly: "I understand, Herman." She found Norman at work with Methodist John cleaning out a stable. To her amazement he was whistling and joking about something with the old man. She stopped and listened a moment. "But what on earth do you want a lightning-rod for, John?" Norman asked. "That's my secret, sir," the old man answered, "but I must have one--won't you get it for me?" "I'm sorry, John, but I have no more power now in the State of Ventura than you have." "But didn't you get the million dollars and didn't you make all the money for 'em--a hundred and fifty thousand dollars on the cantaloups the others didn't have sense enough to plant? Surely they'll give you enough to get me a thirty-foot lightning-rod?" "I'm afraid not, John, still I'll do my best. I don't like to press you for the secrets of your inner life, old man, but I've immense curiosity to know what you want with that lightning-rod? You say you're not afraid of lightning?" "No, sir, I'm not afraid of nothin'." "Then why----" "'Tain't no use in askin' sir, I can't tell ye. But I want it. I'm going to pray every night for it till I get it. Maybe the Lord will send me one by an angel----" Barbara suddenly appeared in the door of the stall. "Speaking of angels," Norman cried, laughing. "I have an order for you," Barbara said, quickly. Norman threw his pitchfork full of manure out of the window of the stall, stood the fork in the corner, brushed his hands, and bowed before Barbara.