“All right,” says Mark. “It’s Wiggamore b-behind all this. He’s got money and influence, and he’s fixed this all up. If we kin settle Wiggamore, we kin settle the whole thing. Let’s forgit about the f-f-fire-escapes and look into gittin’ money to satisfy them other claims.” “’Most five hunderd dollars,” says I. “That hain’t as bad as if it was f-f-five thousand,” says Mark. Now wasn’t that just like him? Nothin’ was so bad in his eyes but what it could be a whole lot worse, and he always managed to look on the bright side. Not that he was given much to thinking things was easier and safer than they was, but he always let on that he could do what he had to and was thankful it wasn’t a lot more. “Where’ll we git that money?” “T-try the bank,” says he. Well, we did that, but the president of the bank said he had helped us all he could. He would loan money on our bills of lading, but he couldn’t do any more. He wouldn’t take a mortgage on the mill, and he wouldn’t lend any other way. That was all there was to it. Mark thanked him for giving us his time, just like we had got what we wanted. He acted like that man had done him a favor, and out we went. “Well?” says I. “Didn’t expect m-much to git it there,” says he. “Where do you expect to git it?” “Don’t know. Got to t-t-think.” “Then do it quick,” says I. “Time’s flyin’.” “’Tain’t no use to try to b-borrow,” says he. “And if we did that’s jest p-puttin’ off trouble. We’d have to pay sometime. If we got to p-pay sometime, we might as well pay now.” “Sure,” says I, sarcastic as vinegar. “That’s the way I feel. You jest hand me the money and I’ll run down and pay it.” “Plunk,” says he, “the only part of your head that’s alive is your l-l-lower jaw. If you can’t help, don’t hinder.” Then he looked at me and grinned and says: “Now I hadn’t ought to have spoke that way, but I was worried and bothered and it jest s-slipped out. I know you’re helpin’ all you kin, and will be right there to back me up in the p-pinch. You hain’t mad about what I said, be you?” Well, I was a mite hot, but what was a fellow to do when he spoke that way? It was my fault, anyhow, and I see that right off. “Course I hain’t,” says I. “I got what was comin’ to me. I’ll shut up and obey orders.” “Let’s see,” says he, “how does f-folks raise money? They b-borrow it or sell somethin’ and git it, or have it given to ’em—or else they hustle around and _m-make_ it. We can’t borrow. We hain’t got n-nothin’ to sell, and nobody’s goin’ to give it to us. The only way l-left is to m-make it. That’s what we got to study over.” “Five hunderd dollars in twenty-four hours!” says Binney. “I’ve read about men that’s m-made a million in less time,” says Mark. Well, we started back to the mill, and who should we meet right in front of the hotel but Wiggamore himself. He looked at us like he didn’t know us and was passing on, but Mark stopped and went right up to him. “Mornin’, Mr. Wiggamore,” says he.