"I don't like that word," said Mirabelle. "It sounds mushier than a corn-starch pudding. And besides, it's nobody's business but his and mine, and I haven't even told _him_ yet. I'm keeping it for a surprise." "Oh!" said Henry. "That's rather a novel idea, isn't it?" "Humph!" said Mirabelle, dryly. "The whole thing's novel, isn't it? But I'm obliged for your coming up here, Henry. I didn't suppose you had enough interest in family matters to be so nosey, even." Later in the week, Henry encountered Mr. Mix, and repeated his congratulations with such honeyed emphasis that Mr. Mix began to stammer. "I appreciate all you say, Henry--but--come here a minute." He drew Henry into a convenient doorway. "I'm sort of afraid, from the way you act, there's something in the back of your mind. I've thought, sometimes, you must have lost sight of the big, broad principles behind the work I'm doing. I've been afraid you've taken my work as if it was directed personally against _you_. Not that I've ever heard you _say_ anything like that, but your manner's been ... well, anyway, you're too big a man for that, Henry. Now about this new scheme of yours. It's my feeling that you're dodging the law by sliding in the back door. It's my official duty to look into it. Only if we _do_ have to put a stop to it, I want you to realize that I sympathize with any personal loss you may have to suffer. Personally, I'm grieved to have to take this stand against John Starkweather's nephew. You understand that, don't you?" Henry nodded assent. "Why, certainly. Your motives are purer than the thoughts of childhood. The only thing I _don't_ understand is what all this has to do with my congratulating you?" "Oh, nothing whatever. Nothing at all. It was just your manner." "Let's come out in the open, then. How do you think you _could_ put a stop to it? Because if you could, why, I'll save you the trouble." Mr. Mix hesitated. "You were always an original young man, Henry. But if it's my duty to stop your show, why should I give away my plans? So you could anticipate 'em?" "No, I've done that already." "Now, Henry, that sounds too conceited to be like _you_." "Oh, no, it's only a fact. But here--I'll run through the list for you. Have me pinched under the ordinance? Can't be done; the City Attorney's said so, and I saw the Chief of Police was in on it. Get an injunction? You can't do that either, because--" "Why can't we?" "Because I've got one already." Mr. Mix's jaw dropped. "What's that? _How_ could you--" "Oh, I got Bob Standish--just as a citizen tax-payer--to apply for a temporary injunction yesterday, to test it out. It's being argued this morning. Don't you want to come over and hear it? If I lose, I won't open next Sunday at all; and if I win, then the League can't get an injunction later.... What else can you do?" "We may have other cards up our sleeves," said Mr. Mix, stiltedly.