I don't know when it was Belcher begun to get wise and start his counter-attack; but the first time I had a chance to slip out and take a squint his way, I saw this whackin' big sign in front of his place: "Potatoes, 40 cents per peck." Which I promptly reports to Vee. "Very well," says she; "we'll make ours thirty-five." Inside of ten minutes we had a bulletin out twice as big as his. "Now I guess he'll be good," says I. But he had a scrap or two left in him, it seems. Pretty soon he cuts the price to thirty. "We'll make it twenty-five," says Vee. And by eleven o'clock Belcher has countered with potatoes at twenty cents. "Why," gasps Vee, "that's far less than they cost at wholesale. But we can't let him beat us. Make ours twenty, too." "Excuse me, ma'am," puts in one of the Scouts, salutin', "but we've run out of potatoes." "Oh, boy!" says I. "Where do we go from here!" Vee hesitates only long enough to draw a deep breath. "Torchy," says she, "I have it. Form your boys into a basket brigade, and buy out Belcher below the market." Talk about your frenzied finance! Wasn't that puttin' it over on him! For two hours, there, we went long on Belcher's potatoes at twenty, until his supply ran out too. Then he switched to sugar and butter. Quotations went off as fast as when the bottom drops out of a bull market. All we had to do to hammer down the prices of anything in the food line, whether we had it or not, was to stick out a cut-rate sign--Belcher was sure to go it one better; and when Vee got it far enough below cost, she started her buyin' corps, workin' in customers, clerks, and anybody that was handy. And by night if every fam'ly within five miles hadn't stocked up on bargain provisions it was their own fault; for if they didn't have cash of their own Vee was right there with the long-distance credit. [Illustration: "Belcher has come over and is listenin', glarin' hostile at the woman. 'It's Mrs. Burke, the one whose sons are in the army,' whispers Vee."] "I'll bet you've got old Belcher frothin' through his ears," says I. "I hope so," says Vee. The followin' Monday, though, he comes back at her with his big push. He had the whole front of his store plastered with below-cost bulletins. "Pooh!" says Vee. "I can have signs like that painted, too." And she did. It didn't bother her a bit if her stock ran out. She kept up on the cut-rate game, and when people asked for things she didn't have she just sent 'em to Belcher's. Maybe you saw what some of the papers printed. Course, they joshed the ladies more or less, but also they played up a peppery interview with Belcher which got him in bad with everybody. Vee wasn't so pleased at the publicity stuff, but she didn't squeal. What was worryin' me some was how soon the grand smash was comin'. I knew that the campaign fund had been whittled into considerable, and now that prices had been slashed there was no chance for profits.