.

"Not yet. We're in correspondence with London people, and they'll
probably come out. When they do," continued Wimperley, eying the other
man meaningly, "we'll turn them over to you."

"Is that it?" The voice had a profundity of meaning.

Wimperley nodded. "I thought you'd understand. You got us in, and now
you've got to pull us out."

"And pull myself out too," said Clark dryly. "Thanks."

"Would you prefer that the works stay idle with you or get busy without
you?" interjected Birch pointedly.

"When it comes to that--if it does--I'll let you know. In the
meantime--?"

"Don't turn a wheel except for town utilities, and now we'd like to see
Bowers. You probably don't realize what we've been through in
Philadelphia. Consolidated isn't what you'd call gilt edged just now,
and the corners are knocked off our reputation as business men. I just
mention this in case you feel aggrieved."

Clark grinned suddenly. "I'm not worrying either about my stock or my
business reputation. Your difficulty is that you don't see why any one
else should pull through where we didn't."

Wimperley nodded. "There's something in that. What we've got now is
the job of making Consolidated stock worth something--by earnings. It
means cutting out the dead wood--our own dead wood, and I don't fancy
the contract. It hurts to chop down the tree you helped to plant--but
it's the only way out of it. There will probably be months before this
machine will start up again, and move toward permanent success."

A day or two afterwards the two directors went back to Philadelphia,
where they reported to Stoughton and Riggs that the screws were on
tight. Save only the pumps and generators, not a wheel turned in the
Consolidated. Birch's conclusion was that millions more were needed.
Consolidated stock settled down to a nominal value that fluctuated with
conflicting reports of new capital having been found, but the whole
affair was flat--indescribably flat. And meantime Birch--with the
unprofitable burden on his shoulders--made pilgrimages to test the
financial pulse, and for months returned empty handed.

In St. Marys it seemed that Arcadia might be reborn,--not the old time
Arcadia with its sleepy village atmosphere, but a modern one in which
folk made up their minds to live on the profits of past years. The car
service was reduced, and half the street lamps removed. There were
empty houses in the new streets, and the propert