"Yes, the Midland Manufacturing Company--Peck, Peebles and Hamilton. Watlington's money is invested in the concern too." "Why," said Wally, "that's the entire gang, isn't it--Greens Committee and all?" "The Big Four," said I. "You can see how it is. They're rather important--as clients. There has been no end of litigation over the site for that new plant of theirs down on Third Avenue, and we've handled all of it." But Wally hadn't been listening to me. "So all the eggs are in one basket!" he exclaimed. "That simplifies matters. Now, if one of 'em had been a doctor and one of 'em a lawyer and one of 'em----" "What are you talking about?" I demanded. "Blest if I know!" said Wally. So far as I could learn no official action was taken by the Big Four because of conduct and language unbecoming a gentleman and a golfer. Before I left the clubhouse I had a word or two with Peebles. He was sitting at a table in the corner of the lounging room, nibbling at a piece of cheese and looking as meek as Moses. "We--ah--considered the source," said he. "The boy is young and--rash, quite rash. His father was a mule-skinner--it's in the blood--can't help it possibly. Yes, we considered the source. Absolutely!" I didn't see very much of Wally after that, but I understood that he played the course in the mornings and gave the club a wide berth on Wednesdays and Saturdays. His default didn't help me any. I was handsomely licked in the finals--four and three, I believe it was. About that time something happened which knocked golf completely out of my mind. IV I was sitting in my office one morning when Atkinson, of the C. G. & N., called me on the phone. The railroad offices are in the same building, on the floor above ours. "That you, Curtiss? I'll be right down. I want to see you." Now, our firm handles the legal end for the C. G. & N., and it struck me that Atkinson's voice had a nervous worried ring to it. I was wondering what could be the matter, when he came breezing in all out of breath. "You told me," said he, "that there wouldn't be any trouble about that spur track along Third Avenue." "For the Midland people, you mean? Oh, that's arranged for. All we have to do is appear before the City Council and make the request for a permit. To-morrow morning it comes off. What are you so excited about?" "This," said Atkinson. He pulled a big red handbill out of his pocket and unfolded it. "Possibly I'm no judge, Curtiss, but this seems to be enough to excite anybody." I spread the thing out on my desk and took a look at it. Across the top was one of those headlines that hit you right between the eyes: SHALL THE CITY COUNCIL LICENSE CHILD MURDER?