"Cannot we go along and sell it--that, in particular, is all that matters, isn't it?" He tried to be reasonable. "You will, as you must now see," he argued, "only need to go to the _industrial_ people, and success will be yours." She was oblivious to all this. He resumed, somewhat uncertainly: "If many people--especially those in the class to which I feel you belong--knew or thought that I am the author of this book, their possible interest might become doubtful; whereas, with no thought than the ordinary--that is the usual fetish--they _might_, after reading it, be much impressed with its message. Don't you agree with me?" He wanted to be reasonable, but Miss Palmer was silent. She was still so when they left the car some minutes later. When they had reached the curbing and stepped upon the walk, they saw Hatfield. He had his suit case and was in somewhat of a hurry, from the strides he was making. "Where is he going, home?" inquired Miss Palmer. "I don't know," replied the other, "but I wouldn't think so at least. He never said anything to me in regard to it, when I left him this morning." Yet so he was, though he never said so, when they met him and exchanged a few words. "I'm going to a friend's house," and he gave Wyeth a number. They told him of their success, whereupon he secured a dollar, and that was the last time they saw him. He went back with the same porter they had come over with. * * * * * It was Legs who informed Sidney that young Hatfield was going back to Attalia. Legs was having some experiences of his own. Before he related them to Wyeth, he inquired: "Well, Books, how goes it?" He was cheerful as usual--in fact Legs was always cheerful--with one exception, which we shall cite presently. "Fine, Legs," Wyeth beamed. "Couldn't be better, which is saying a great deal. How's things with you?" "_Could_ be a whole lot better," he laughed, with dancing eyes; "but they have been worse. I've been busy though. Working right along. Got me a gal now, and won a little change today that I might lose tonight." He did--and more. He lost all he had, borrowed a quarter from Wyeth, wanted a dollar, but Wyeth halted him, advising that he loaned only to purchase the means to fill his stomach, and then only when it was begging for bread. After this, and for some time to come, Legs' fortune varied from near prosperity, to going for a whole day without anything to eat. And at these times, he dispensed with his usual cheerfulness.