“I believe he has already.” Mayberry gave no particulars, but he spoke of the letter the manager of the Hapwood-Diller Company had ordered written that afternoon. It was not to his advantage to say anything about Ethel Clayton and the confidence Barton had in her good sense and ability. “Postpone the sending of that letter, Jim,” said Blaisdell hastily. “It has not left the office yet, has it?” “I do not believe so. It was too late for the last mail,” Mayberry agreed. But he was puzzled. “I’ll tell you what I mean,” Blaisdell said, leaning nearer to the superintendent. He laid a hand upon the latter’s shoulder. His lips were close to Mayberry’s ear. Nobody could have heard then what he said, not if they had been at Blaisdell’s elbow. And there was nobody so near. A few minutes later the superintendent turned his car and started back toward Mailsburg while Blaisdell strolled away in the opposite direction. Then it was that a cramped figure rolled out from the shadow on the creek side of the great rock. “Those two chumps purty near made me late setting my lines,” observed Boots Skinner under his breath. “The moon’ll be up in a few minutes and then mebbe I’d git nabbed. “Old Man Hammerly says that if I’m caught doing this ag’in he’ll give me all the laws allows--an’ then some. The old jackdaw! I bet he never gits the chance. “That’s the way. Ain’t no chance for a poor feller, jest as dad says. Such rich chaps as them two can plan to do all the devilment that they want, and nobody dast touch ’em. But me! I ain’t let to ketch a mess o’ fish in peace. Huh! Jest the same, me an’ dad will have a fish-fry for breakfast,” and he grinned in the darkness, carefully baiting his hooks. CHAPTER V THE DREAM OF A STAR Mrs. Clayton was a Diller. She often stated this fact with pride. “The Dillers, my dear, are among the very oldest and the very best families in the country; and when one has family as every sensible person recognizes, money is of secondary importance,” Ethel’s mother insisted over and over, in season and out. “All very well, dear,” agreed the girl cheerfully. “But money is more essential to our daily comfort than blue blood. I presume I am glad I have Diller blood in my veins. I am much gladder I have Diller brains in my head; for they enable me to earn twenty dollars a week--more than any other girl earns, I do believe, in Mailsburg.” Mrs. Clayton, with all her horror of things common, could not deny that Israel Diller had been the saviour of the family by his business ability. He went into trade and he made good in it. By grace of his doing so, and leaving her a few shares of the Hapwood-Diller Company--and Grandon Fuller’s wife a good many--both the Claytons and the Fullers were benefitted. Indeed, Mrs. Clayton and Ethel lived much more comfortably in the little cottage at the end of Burnaby Street by grace of the dividends from those shares than they had while Mr. Clayton was alive.