"Things are down to a low mark when you have to make your estimates on that basis. One cent to the million," said Lyman with a quiet laugh. "Distressful," Warren replied. "The country was never in such a fix before. Why, last year about this time I raised eighty cents without any trouble at all." "Yes," said Lyman, "you raised it of me." "That's a fact," Warren admitted. "But do you think the country is as well off now as it was then?" "Not financially, but it may be wiser." "Now, look here, Judge, am I to accept this as an insinuation?" "How so?" Lyman asked, looking up, his eyes full of mischief. "Why, speaking of being wiser. I don't know but you meant--well, that you were too wise to help me out again. You can't deny that the notice of the partnership was all right." "We have no complaint to enter on that ground," Caruthers drawled. "Pardon me, Chancellor, but it wasn't your put-in," Warren replied. "Your suggestions are worth money and you ought not to throw them away. But the question is, can I get sixty-five cents out of this firm?" "Warren," said Lyman, "I am in sympathy with your cheerful distress." "But are you willing to shoulder the debt of sixty-five millions of people? Are you in a position to do that?" "No," Caruthers drawled, leaning over with a strain and picking up his pipe from the floor. "Chancellor," said the editor, "as wise as you are, your example is sometimes pernicious and your counsel implies evil." "Oh, I am simply speaking for the firm," Caruthers replied. "As an individual Lyman can do as he pleases with his capital. Come in, sir." Some one was tapping at the door, and Lyman, looking around, recognized the short and wheezing bulk of Uncle Buckley Lightfoot, the oracle. He almost tumbled out his chair to grasp the old fellow by the hand; and then, smoothing his conduct, he introduced him, with impressive ceremony.