"No," agreed Wallingford. "By the terms under which he sold out to you, Mr. W. A. Hammond is not to go into the sales recorder business at all. Allow me to read you a letter," and from a pocketbook he took a folded paper. "My dear Mr. Wallingford," he read. "Under no circumstances could I participate in the manufacture of sales recorders; but my son, Mr. J. B. Hammond, is quite convinced that the Klug patent is both practical and tenable, and he advises me that he is willing to invest up to two hundred thousand dollars, provided a company of at least one million _bona fide_ capitalization can be formed." "It is a curious coincidence," added Wallingford, passing over this letter with a smile, "that two hundred thousand dollars is exactly the price you paid William Hammond for his business, after five years of very bitter litigation. The son, no doubt, would take a keen personal interest in regaining the losses of the father through a company that has so excellent a chance to compete with yours. You see, a company with a million dollars, composed of men who know all about the sales recorder business, would set aside these suits of yours in a jiffy, because they are untenable, and you know it, although I do not expect you to admit it just now. Mr. Keyes, whose name is next on the list, had nothing left to sell after losing almost a quarter of a million in fighting you, and so is unbound. It just happens, however, that he has been left quite a comfortable legacy, and would like nothing so much as to sink part of it in our company. Here is the letter from Mr. Keyes," and he spread the second document in the case before Mr. Priestly, who now laid down the first letter and, readjusting his glasses, took up the second one in profound silence. Mr. Wallingford lit a cigar in calm content and waited until Mr. Priestly had finished reading the letter of Mr. Keyes, when he produced another one. "Mr. Rankley," he observed, "has never been in the sales recorder business, but he apparently has his own private and personal reasons for wishing to engage in it," and at the mention of Mr. Rankley's name Mr. Priestly broke the toothpick he was holding and threw it away. Mr. Rankley, as he quite well knew, was Mr. Alexander's bitterest enemy, and Mr. Alexander was practically the United Sales Recording Machine Company of New Jersey. Wallingford went on down the list in calm joy. It was composed entirely of men of means, who would put into this enterprise not only experience and shrewd business ability, but a particularly energetic hatred of the big corporation and its components. "I see," said Mr. Priestly, laying down the final letter upon the previous ones, and with great delicacy and precision placing a glass paperweight squarely in the middle of them. "Permit me to retain these letters for a short time. I wish to take them before our board of directors." "When?" asked Wallingford. "Well, our regular monthly meeting--" began Mr. Priestly.