"To think? How long, sir?" "Well, say about six months." "There's no use wasting words with this fellow," said Sawyer. "We'll make him sign it." Lyman looked at him. "I understand that you are a buyer and seller of mules," he remarked. "That may account for your impulsiveness. But at present you are not in the mule market, that is, not as a buyer." "Come," said McElwin, "we don't want any trouble." "But if we have it," Lyman replied, "let it come on before it is time to go to press. Warren wants news." McElwin bit his brown lip, and Sawyer fumed. "Don't put it off too long," said Warren. "I've hired a negro to turn the press." "This is infamous!" the banker shouted, stamping the floor. "It is beyond belief." Then he strove to calm himself. "Mr. Lyman, I ask you, as a man, to sign this petition." "The interview has wrought upon my nerves, Mr. McElwin, and if I should sign it now the Court might look upon my signature as obtained under coercion." "Ridiculous, sir. I never saw a man more quiet." "That is the mistake of your agitated eye. My nerves are in a tangle." "Let me fix it," said Sawyer, swelling toward Lyman. Lyman smiled at him: "You are pretty heavy in the shoulders, Mr. Sawyer, but you slope down too fast. I don't believe your legs are very good. You might say that I don't slope enough, or not at all, but I'm wire, Yale-drawn. You are meaty, vealy, the boys would say, but if you think that you'd feel healthier and more contented toward the world after a closer association with me--" "Come, none of that," the banker interrupted. And then to Lyman he added: "I appeal to your reason, sir." "A bad thing to appeal to when it sits against you. It is like appealing to a wind blowing toward you. But before I forget it I should like to ask what this man Sawyer has to do with it?" "He and my daughter are engaged, sir." "Well," said Lyman, "that might have been, but they are not now. Let me ask you an impertinent question: Does she love him?" Sawyer started. The banker shifted his position. "I told you that they were engaged," said McElwin. "I know you did, and that is the reason I asked you if she loves him. Let me ask another impertinent question: Didn't you appeal to her to marry him?" "Who suggested that--that impudence, sir?" "You did. Didn't you tell her that he was the most promising young man in the neighborhood and that she must marry him? Hold on a moment. And didn't your wife take the young woman's part, declaring that she looked higher, and wasn't she finally compelled to yield?" "I will not answer such shameless questions." "Well, then, I must bid you good day." "Without signing this petition?" "Without so much as reading it. But I will agree to do this. When your daughter comes to me and tells me that she loves Mr. Sawyer, that her happiness depends upon him, then I will sign it. At present I am her protector."