Margery was turning the leaves of an illustrated prospectus of an Idaho irrigation company, and was apparently much more deeply interested in the electrotyped pictures than in the fortunes of Mr. Edward Raymer. And when she went on, she ignored the obliterative business suggestion and remained in the narrower channel of the personalities. "Why haven't you any use for him?" "Oh, I don't know: because, until just lately, he has never seemed to have much use for me, I guess. It's a stand-off, so far as likings go. I offered to reincorporate his outfit for him six months ago, and told him I'd take fifty-one per cent of the reorganization stock myself; but he wouldn't talk about it. Said what little he had was his own, and he proposed to keep it." "But now he is willing to let you help him?" "Not much; he don't look at it in that light. He wants to borrow money from the bank and put up the stock of his close corporation as collateral. It's safe enough, but I don't believe I'll do it." The chatelaine of Mereside laid the prospectus aside and came abruptly to the point. "I want you to do it," she said, decisively. "The devil you do!" Then, with the dry door-hinge chuckle: "It was a waste of good money to put in the ice plant while you're here, Madgie. What's in the wind, now?" "Maybe I'll tell you--sometime." The president chuckled again and tilted to the comfortable angle in the arm-chair. "Tell me now; you don't need to beat any of the bushes with me, little girl. If you say the word, I'll pinch him for you." "I didn't say that I wanted him pinched. But I do want you to put him under obligations to you--the heavier the better. His mother and sister have gone out of their way to snub me, and I want to play even." Grierson wagged his huge head, and this time the chuckle grew to a guffaw. "I thought maybe that was the game. But it won't work with him; not for a single minute." "Why won't it?" "Because he ain't the man to go to his women-folks when he gets into hot water. He'll keep it to himself; and they'll go on bluffing you, same as ever." Miss Grierson pulled on her gauntlets and made ready to go, leisurely, as befitted her pose. "That is where you are mistaken," she objected, coolly. "It isn't very often that I can give you a business tip, but this is one of the times when I can. When John Raymer died, he left an undivided half of his estate to his wife, the other half to be shared equally by the two children. At the present moment, every dollar the entire family has is invested in the iron plant. So, you see, I know what I am doing." Jasper Grierson turned the leaf of a calendar-pad and made a brief memorandum. "I _savez_: I'll break the three-cornered syndicate for you." "You will do nothing of the kind," asserted the radiant daughter of men, with serene assurance. "You will let Mr. Raymer get himself into hot water, as you call it, and then, when I say the word, you'll reach in and pull him out."