“That brings our discussion to an end, Mr. Cartwright,” said John Bagsbury. “Good morning, gentlemen,” he added, holding open the door into the hall. As the carriage drove away he walked back to his desk and wrote the following note:-- “DEAR SPONLEY: I have just learned of the sale of your stock in our bank to Messrs. Cartwright and Meredith. As you have no further interest in Bagsbury and Company, and as you are opposed to its present policy, I suggest that you hand me your resignation from the Board of Directors. We shall be glad to act upon it at once. “JOHN BAGSBURY.” “Are you going to church with us, dear?” asked Alice, from the doorway. “Yes,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ll have to go twice. Just wait a minute and I’ll be ready.” CHAPTER XIII HOW THE BEAR SPENT SUNDAY Sponley was well satisfied with the course events so far had taken. He had got rid of his bank stock quietly and at a good price, with the double advantage to himself of an increased freedom of movement, and a greater supply of ammunition for his operations against Pickering. But what pleased him far more was this: he had taken Harriet almost without reserve into his confidence, and she was, as she had been in so many earlier campaigns, his partner. He remembered how she had felt when she had learned of his understanding with Curtin, and he had entertained strong misgivings as to the effect which a revelation of his present schemes would have upon her. But reflecting that, however carefully he might conceal his doings, she was sure to guess at a great deal, he had braced himself for a somewhat disagreeable scene and had told her--nearly everything. It was his last big fight, he had said, and quite sincerely. When this lard corner of Pickering’s was fairly broken, they would go out of business and find some less exacting game to play for the rest of their lives. To his surprise, and to his infinite relief, she had entered into his plans with all her old-time enthusiasm, accepting with very good grace even the enforced hostility with John. “It doesn’t really make so much difference,” she said; “neither of you can help it. He’s right from his point of view; but when it’s all over he’ll see your side of it, and we can be as good friends as we were before. I hope, though, that your beating Pickering won’t hurt the bank very seriously.” “I hope so, too,” he assented, and again he told the truth. Early in the afternoon a messenger boy brought John’s note. Harriet read it over her husband’s shoulder. “John is quick, isn’t he?” she said. “Yes; but it won’t do him any good. Wait a minute, boy, and I’ll give you an answer.” He scrawled something on a sheet of note paper and handed it to her. It read:-- “DEAR BAGSBURY: I shall seriously consider doing as you suggest. “Cordially, “MELVILLE SPONLEY.”