While Paul was dictating, in sharp, short sentences, the answers to the batch of mail marked "Mining," two cards were brought in to him. "JOHN POOLEY, President State Federation of Labor." "R. E. L. BIVENS, Editor, _The Adamsville Voice of Labor_." His eyes crinkled into a smile, although the mouth remained a hard fixed line. Pelham must see this pair of blood-suckers at work; that would open the boy's eyes to the dry rot in the practical working out of his labor theorizing. No, he would see them alone. Perhaps he could get at the son indirectly. "Send Mr. Kane in." The company's advertising manager opened the private door as the two labor leaders were adjusting themselves complacently into ample chairs. "What can I do for you, Pooley?" "We called to see about the convention special of the _Voice_, sir. Wouldn't you like a half-page write-up for the company, or yourself? The half is only seventy-five dollars.... It'll go where it'll do lots of good, sir." Paul directed his gaze to the wheezing, balloon-like figure of the editor. "Has Kane given you enough advertising, Bivens?" The puffed, greedy face smiled ingratiatingly. "Mr. Kane's been very good to us, sir. At least a quarter of a page weekly." "How has the _Voice of Labor_ made out?" "It's made out--that's about all, Mr. Judson. Print paper's gone so high, that only the adver_tise_ments has made it go. We expect this special will net a neat sum." He jingled the Woodmen's emblem at the end of a thick gold chain, thoroughly satisfied with the world. There was an Odd Fellows' button on his coat--fraternal orders strengthened his appeals for the paper. "Pooley, how do you stand on this mining law down at Jackson?" The lanky president of the State Federation twisted his lame leg more comfortably under him, and leaned forward, gesticulating diplomatically. "It's both good and bad, Mr. Judson. Some of the boys is very strong for it. But I seen an editorial against it in the _Times-Dispatch_ last week. I figured you might not be for it." Paul cut through the verbal knot. "How will the Federation go?" The other shook his head. "No telling. There's a few of them Socialists is delegates--they're for anything to stir up trouble; but nobody pays much attention to them. Then there is others. It'll be pretty even." "How would you feel if I took the front and back pages, Bivens?" "That would be fine for both of us, sir." "Coming out editorially against that law?" He wheezed deferentially. "It has some bad flaws, sir. I figured on a write-up against it." "Make it strong, and I'll take the two pages." Bivens consulted with the other representative of labor. His eager eyes shone greedily. "How would you like us to put you down, Mr. Judson, for the main speech of the convention? 'Proper Legal Safeguards in Mining,' or something like that?... You know, the front and back pages is more expensive. Say five hundred for the two."