"You couldn't get the farmers to work on Saturday if you offered them double wages," declared the clerk. "The reputation of the Pinewood Inn will be ruined. And I'd hate to see the doors closed and all these people put out." "And nowhere to go," Ryder said thoughtfully. "You've said a mouthful," groaned George, but watching the other sharply. "By thunder!" exclaimed Ryder, suddenly smiting the counter with a clenched fist. He scented the battle like a warhorse and forgot his personal troubles for the moment. This emergency appealed to him. "I can't see you beat this way, boy," he declared. "But what'll I do?" "Wait till I take a look around the village. Sit tight and say nothing." "If the steam isn't knocking in those pipes pretty soon I am going to have a mob at this desk ready to tar and feather me, Mr. Ryder." "If they do it, you tell me," chuckled the business man with an answering grin, and, having his hat and coat with him, he started for the door without further loss of time. It looked to Ryder as though it was up to him to take hold of the wheel of affairs again and give it a whirl. Ruth had expressed a desire to remain at the hotel; and certainly she could not stay without heat and light. Besides, Ryder had an additional reason for remaining. If Mrs. Judson circulated her rumors and lies among the guests, certainly John Ryder and the woman to whom he had given his name and to whom he had entrusted his honor, could not afford, even seemingly, to run away. In his present mood he would have made an offer to buy the hotel and run it as he saw fit, providing he could get the owners of the Pinewood Inn to agree on a price. Under no consideration or circumstances could he allow the guests to believe there was anything queer about Ruth. They must remain. And "that impudent and half-baked house detective," which was the way he thought of Miss Solomons, was likely to make as much trouble for them as Mrs. Judson. He did not mind what people said of him; but he grew furious when he thought of what might be said about Ruth. Therefore, he took hold of this coal situation with zest. As he passed the local coal dealers on the way to the shack that served Pinewood as a station, he saw that George had been correct. The two dealers together did not have enough coal to furnish the hotel with a proper supply for more than a day or two. The hotel needed a carload at least. And there should be two or three carloads in the cellar to protect the guests if the house was to remain open any length of time. When he reached the station he saw upon a spur track four gondolas heaped high with fuel. A man in cap and jumper, wheeling an empty truck, he rightly identified as the station master and general factotum of the company at this rather unimportant station. He halted the man. "I want to buy some of that coal," he said. "Huh?"