"Read that!" She thrust a letter at him.

Evan read:

"Mrs. George Deaves:

Dear Madam:

Your husband has declined to purchase the latest anecdote of Mr. Simeon Deaves, and has bidden us to let the general public enjoy the laugh.

This we will very gladly do, but knowing you to be a lady of sensitive nature, it seemed too bad not to give you a chance to act in the matter first. The story will be published in the _Clarion_ this evening unless we hear from you or from Mr. Deaves. In case you wish to stop it please see our letter of yesterday for instructions how to reach us and what to send.

In the meantime pray accept, dear Madam, the a.s.surances of our distinguished consideration, and believe us,

Yours most respectfully, THE IKUNAHKATSI."

"Why wasn't it sent?" she cried.

"Mr. Deaves decided that they were bluffing this time," said Evan.

"You advised me!" said Deaves.

"Certainly" said Evan. "That's all I can do. The decision rests with you."

"Why wasn't I consulted?" cried Maud.

And so the storm raged up and down. Evan devoutly wished himself some place else.

"Knowing your father's propensity for disgracing us I don't believe it's a bluff!" cried Maud.

"Disgracing you!" retorted the old man. "Whose money paid for those gew-gaws?"

"Must I stand here to be insulted in the presence of my husband!"

"Papa, be quiet!"

"Disgracing you? Where would you all be, but for this disgraceful old man I'd like to know!"

But neither of the men was any match for Maud. Within a quarter of an hour she had driven the old man from the room and reduced her husband to a palpitating jelly.

In the end the latter said hopelessly: "Very well, I'll send the money."

Maud swept triumphantly out of the room. Evan looked after her with a new eye. During the last few minutes an extraordinary suspicion had come into his mind, an incredible suspicion, but it would not down.

The wretched George Deaves played with the objects on his desk. "All very well to say I'll send it," he muttered. "But where am I going to get it? Useless to ask Papa."

Evan was silent. There was nothing for him to say.

George Deaves looked at him aggrievedly. "You think I'm wrong to send it."

"I should think it would be hard enough to send it when they had something on you, let alone when they were only bluffing."

"It is hard," whimpered the other. "I think it's a bluff myself. But suppose it isn't and the story is printed. What would I say to Maud?

How could I face her?"

"It's for you to decide," said Evan.

George Deaves rapped on his desk, bit his fingers, looked out of the window, got up and sat down again. Finally he said tremulously: "Very well, I'll take a chance."

With what anxiety they awaited the appearance of the _Clarion_ may be guessed. Simeon Deaves and Evan started out immediately after lunch to get a copy. The old man wanted to go direct to the publishing office to get it damp from the press, but Evan persuaded him it would never do to betray so much anxiety in the matter. The _Clarion_ office might be watched. Indeed it was not unlikely the gang had an agent there.

They found that none of the newsstands in the vicinity of the plaza carried the _Clarion_: "a socialistic rag" it was called in that neighbourhood. They had to walk all the way to Third avenue to find a dealer who would confess to handling it. It would be up at four he said, so that they had an hour to kill, which old Simeon spent very happily in the fish-market.

For the last fifteen minutes they hung around outside the newsstand while the proprietor watched them suspiciously from inside his window.

When the newswagon drove up Simeon Deaves s.n.a.t.c.hed a _Clarion_ from the top of the pile. The newsdealer held out his hand for the two cents, but it was ignored.

Evan got a copy for himself. Skimming over the headlines he failed to find the name of Deaves and breathed more freely. A more careful search column by column revealed not so much as a stick of type devoted to Simeon Deaves. Evan and his employer looked at each other and grinned.

The newsdealer demanded his two cents.

"Shan't need the paper now," said Simeon, calmly putting it down.

Evan averted an explosion by hastily paying for both copies.

On the way home the old man was in such an extraordinary good humour that he actually bought Evan a five-cent cigar. Evan keeps it to this day as a curiosity.

At home they found an ashy and shaken George Deaves waiting for them in the library.

"It's all right!" said Evan.

A look of beatific relief overspread the other's face. He immediately began to swell. "That is most gratifying! most gratifying!" he said pompously. "I am really under obligations to you, Weir. We both are, aren't we, Papa?"

"Sure, Evan's a good boy. I always said so. I bought him a cigar."

"Tcha! A cigar! I should really like to do something for you, Weir."

"You can raise my salary if you want," said Evan slyly.

A comical transformation took place in both faces. "What! Raise your salary! Again! Impossible!" both cried.

Evan laughed. "Well, you proposed doing something for me."

Someone else in that house had bought a copy of the _Clarion_. Mrs.

George Deaves entered in what was for her a high good humour with a copy of the sheet under her arm.

"Well, I see you sent the money," she said.

George Deaves looked self-conscious. He greatly desired to lie, but lacked the effrontery to do so before the other men. His father saved him the trouble of doing so. Eager to get back at Maud he said: