to be able to supply the demand which we create. If we
were assured that you were able to make good in this respect, we would
have no hesitation in sending a buyer down at once to inspect your
pack."

"But you do not?"

Gregory met the man's eyes squarely and the manager looked him over
critically.

"Yes," he answered after a moment. "For some reason or other I believe I
do. I think you are working along the right lines. That is," he amended
with a smile, "if you do not carry your ideas of cooperation far enough
to deal direct with the consumer and cut us out of it."

As Gregory shook his head, Mr. Dupont concluded:

"I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll send Mr. Dalton down at once to look
over your pack. How does that suit you?"

Gregory's face clearly expressed his satisfaction and a few moments
later he hurried out into the street, leaving Hawkins with the manager.

"I'll meet you here at any time," Hawkins called after him.

Promising to meet his friend at four o'clock, Gregory started again on
his rounds. Passing a butcher-shop he stopped and surveyed the array of
fish which were on display in the window. He noted the prices and
hastily compared them with the figures he was getting from the markets
in Port Angeles for his fresh fish. There was surely money going to
waste somewhere. Remembering that he had promised Dickie to visit the
wholesalers, he directed his steps to the water-front.

The dealers he visited were scarcely civil and among them was none who
spoke English without the accent of the foreigner. Their observations in
response to his questions concerning the prices they were offering, were
short and to the point. If he did not like it, he need not ship to them.
They were dumping fish every day as it was. The market was glutted. What
was he going to do about it?

Gregory wondered himself. Then a plan began to form in his brain,
suggested no doubt by Mr. Dupont's jest about him carrying the
cooperative idea far enough to include the consumer. Why not? Fish were
being retailed at almost prohibitive figures. And the markets claimed
they were dumping them. Somebody was profiteering. Who was it? Certainly
not himself. He was barely able to get enough from the dealers to pay
express.

The idea grew as he walked along the street. He decided to take up, with
Dickie Lang, the matter of establishing a cooperative service-market and
selling direct to the consumer.

In mid-afternoon he found himself agai