“Removed. Unjustly and unwarrantably removed. Autocratically and tyrannically removed. I am a victim of nepotism. I have, I fancy, proven adequate; indeed, I may say it is rare to find a man of my attainments in so insignificant a position.... But I have been cast out upon the streets arbitrarily, that a corrupt and self-seeking group of professional politicians may curry favor with a man more corrupt than themselves. In short and in colloquial terms, I have been kicked out to provide a place for Supervisor Delorme’s cousin.” Carmel nodded. “And you wish to protest.” “I desire to lay before the public my ideas of the obligation of the public toward its children in the matter of education. I desire to protest against glaring injustice. I desire to accuse a group of men willing to prostitute the schools to the level of political spoils. I wish to protest at being set adrift penniless.” His expression as he uttered the word “penniless” was one of helpless bewilderment which touched Carmel’s sympathy. “Penniless?” she said. “I am no spendthrift,” he said, severely. “I may say that I am exceedingly economical. But I have invested my savings, and--er--returns have failed to materialize from the investment.” “What investment?” The young man eyed her a moment as if he felt her to be intruding unwarrantably in his private concerns, but presently determined to reply. “A certain gold mine, whose location I cannot remember at the moment. It was described as of fabulous wealth, and I was assured the return from my investment of five hundred dollars would lift me above the sordid necessity of working for wages.... I regret to say that hitherto there has been no material assurance of the truth of the statements made to me.” “Poor lamb!” said Carmel under her breath. “I beg your pardon?” Carmel shook her head. “So you are--out of a job--and broke?” she said. “Broke,” he said, lugubriously, “is an exceedingly expressive term.” “And what shall you do?” He looked about him, at his feet, through the door into the shop, under the desk, at the picture on the wall in a helpless, bewildered way as if he thought his future course of action might be hiding some place in the neighborhood. “I haven’t the slightest idea,” he said. Carmel considered. Inexperienced as she was, new to the intrigues of Gibeon, she was able to perceive how the professor’s letter was loaded with dynamite--not for him, but for the paper which published it. Notwithstanding, it was her impulse to print it. Indeed, her mind was firmly made up to print it. Therefore she assumed an attitude of deliberation, as she had schooled herself to do. “If you give me the letter,” she said, “I will read it and consider the wisdom of making it public.” “I shall be obliged to you,” he said, and turned toward the door. Midway he paused. “If,” he said, “you chance to hear of a position--as teacher or otherwise--to which I may be adapted, I shall be glad to have you communicate with me.”