A little look crossed the man’s face. “Oh, no. I guess not.” “He asked me to say that otherwise he will take action.” The man’s face fell a little. “Take it into court--He can’t win.” “They ’ve just won against the Lake Shore--those planting machines.” “That was Indiana,” said the man quickly. “Yes, that was Indiana. But McKinnon has three or four other similar cases, scattered about. He says they ’ve all won.” “I told Buxton it was a fool thing to do!” muttered the man half under his breath. “That ’s what President Tetlow said,” remarked John quietly. “Um-m--Did he? What else did he say?” John smiled a little. “He said if you were going to try to do him, it was safer to do him inside the law.” “Hm-m--How much is he going to stick us for?” “Twelve thousand.” “Can’t do it,” said the man. He sat up very straight and folded his fingers across his stomach, guarding his rights. “He said it would be worth that--The whole district has suffered. The crop ’s a dead loss.” “Why don’t he let them fight for themselves?” “I guess he thinks he ’s more used to it than they are.” The manager of the C. B. and L. looked at him a moment. “Tell him we ’ll settle for ten thousand--and not a cent more.” John made a note. “I ’ll tell him, sir.” The man was not in good humor. The calm eyes of the young man, and a certain sense of moral inferiority that came upon him, made him restless; and the obvious respect that this young man felt for the President of the “R. and Q.” was not encouraging. But it occurred to the manager suddenly that every man has his price and he drew a little breath of relief, relaxing in his chair. Ten minutes later, when he took up his hat to go, he could not, for the life of him, have told whether the young man, holding open the door for him, was too stupid or too virtuous to take advantage of a very good offer that had been dangled before him. But he had a distinct impression that he should like to overhear some young man in his employ speak of him as this young man was speaking of Simeon Tetlow. As he went through the outer room, the manager of the C. B. and L. passed very close to a desk where a bookkeeper was busy with columns of figures. But the manager did not glance that way and the bookkeeper did not lift his busy eyes from the page before him. XVIII The typewriters had been reinstalled in the president’s office and John, in the little upper room, was giving the president of the road a detailed account of the preceding day--including the visit from the manager of the C. B. and L. “That’s good,” said Simeon. “That’s good--as far as it goes.” But his thin face still wore an anxious look and he sat slouched a little forward, his eyes on the floor. The morning’s mail lay on the desk behind him, untouched. John’s eyes turned to it. “You saw Dr. Blake?” Simeon stirred uneasily. “Yes.” He drew a quick sigh and turned toward the desk. “Yes--I saw him.”