"If O'Connor can get the Eastern Conference to put through a separation rule now, we're absolutely helpless," he concluded. "Gunterson wouldn't have the vaguest idea of what to do--and wouldn't let any one else tell him. I can pretty nearly see the Guardian, under Samuel Gunterson's suicidal direction, setting sail with all flags flying, and heading straight for the bottom of the sea." Helen could think of nothing to say. "And you are leaving for Boston!" Smith added. "Well, it looks to me as though I might be out of a job before long, and perhaps I'll come up to Boston and strike your Uncle Silas for one. I think Mr. Osgood always rather liked me. And Boston's a pretty good town--or will be after next week." He spoke a little bitterly, for it seemed that the possibility he mentioned was perhaps not so remote, after all. Even if the Guardian survived the staggering load of its Vice-President, he felt that he could not serve very long under such a man as Gunterson. And if such a thing should come to pass, he would be in no position to hope as he was now hoping, or to dream as he was now dreaming. Yet, after all, no wall that was ever built can shut out dreams. CHAPTER XIV The second day of January, 1913, was marked by the installation of Samuel Gunterson as underwriting head of the Guardian and by the announcement of a radical separation rule by the combined companies of the Eastern Conference. Each was likely to have a far-reaching effect. Smith read the news with stolid eyes. He did not credit O'Connor with having had sufficient influence to carry the separation act through the Conference, but all that the astute President of the Salamander had hoped for, and in anticipation of which had laid his plans, had come to pass--the Guardian was out of the Conference, the separation rule was to take effect almost immediately--and Gunterson was at the wheel. Smith well knew what a leverage would be used against his company. He was still brooding over the fateful item when Mr. Wintermuth sent for him. "Have you met your new chief yet?" asked the President, in a friendly manner. "Yes," said the other, shortly. He held out the paper. "Have you seen this yet?" he inquired, in turn. "_The Journal of Commerce_? No. Is there anything especial in it?" For answer Smith laid the paper open on the desk, pointing silently to the item which meant so much to the Guardian--and to every company outside the Conference. Mr. Wintermuth adjusted his glasses and read the article carefully. "Well, well!" he said thoughtfully. "So they passed it, after all! I never believed they would dare. It's a little too much like a boycott--it gives them too much the appearance of a combination in restraint of trade. Tariff and rate-making associations are proper and necessary, but to attempt to dictate to agents what companies they shall not represent--or at any event penalize them for so doing--is going pretty far. No, I didn't think they'd dare."