When this matter had been talked out Doctor West took the _Clarion_ from the table and again read the editorial with troubled face, while Katherine walked to and fro across the floor, her mind all on the trial. "If the town does sell, it will be too bad!" he sighed. "I suppose so," said Katherine mechanically. "It has reached me that people are saying that the system isn't worth anything like what we paid for it." "Is that so?" she asked absently. Doctor West drew himself up and his faded cheeks flushed indignantly. "No, it is not so. I don't know what's wrong, but it's the very best system of its size in the Middle West!" She paused. "Forgive me--I wasn't paying any attention to what I was saying. I'm sure it is." She resumed her pacing. "But if they sell out to some company," Doctor West continued, "the company will probably get it for a third, or less, of what it is actually worth." "So, if some corporation has been secretly wanting to buy it," commented Katherine, "things could not have worked out better for the corporation if they had been planned." She came to a sudden pause, and stood gazing at her father, her lips slowly parting. "It could not have worked out better for the corporation if it had been planned," she repeated. "No," said Doctor West. She picked up the _Clarion_, quickly read the editorial, and laid the paper aside. "Father!" Her voice was a low, startled cry. "Yes?" She moved slowly toward him, in her face a breathless look, and caught his shoulders with tense hands. "_Perhaps it was planned!_" "What?" Her voice rang out more loudly: "_Perhaps it was planned!_" "But Katherine--what do you mean?" "Let me think. Let me think." She began feverishly to pace the room. "Oh, why did I not think of this before!" she cried to herself. "I thought of graft--political corruption--everything else. But it never occurred to me that there might be a plan, a subtle, deep-laid plan, to steal the water-works!" Doctor West watched her rather dazedly as she went up and down the floor, her brows knit, her lips moving in self-communion. Her connection with the Municipal League in New York had given her an intimate knowledge of the devious means by which public service corporations sometimes gain their end. Her mind flashed over all the situation's possibilities. Suddenly she paused before her father, face flushed, triumph in her eyes. "Father, _it was planned!_" "Eh?" said he. "Father," she demanded excitedly, "do you know what the great public service corporations are doing now?" Her words rushed on, not waiting for an answer. "They have got hold of almost all the valuable public utilities in the great cities, and now they are turning to a fresh field--the small cities. Westville is a rich chance in a small way. It has only thirty thousand inhabitants now. But it is growing. Some day it will have fifty thousand--a hundred thousand." "That's what people say."