or you."

While the girl attended to his order, the resident manager of Winfield &
Camby turned his attention to his paper. When the waitress returned with
the crisply browned fish, she was obliged to speak twice before she was
able to gain Mr. Dupont's attention.

Hovering about his chair, she watched her patron nibble at the
carefully-prepared delicacy with his eyes fixed intently upon his
newspaper. The dimples disappeared quickly from the girl's face as she
noted that the mackerel were growing cold. Then she turned from the
table with a sigh. Men did not care what they ate as long as they had
their paper.

Mr. Dupont finished his perusal of the news and shoved back his chair,
leaving the special scarcely tasted.

"That was fine," he ejaculated. "Wish I had time to finish it. But I
have a number of things to 'tend to before going to the office. By the
way, where did you say that new market was located?"

He rose as he spoke and as the waitress again gave him the location of
the building he sought, he pressed a substantial tip into her hand and
hurried to the street. At the entrance to the California Market, he
mingled with the throng and elbowed his way through the crowd which
packed a corner of the big building. Then he adjusted his nose-glasses
and peered over their heads.

Behind a rudely constructed counter of rough boards three smiling young
men were endeavoring to satisfy the demands made upon them for the
rapidly disappearing contents of a number of fish-boxes behind the
counter. All about them were hastily scrawled signs which the public
read with interest.

WE HAVE DECLARED WAR ON THE HIGH COST OF LIVING.--FRESH
FISH AT FIFTY PER CENT. OFF.--WE ARE DEALING DIRECT WITH
THE PEOPLE.--SHOOT SQUARE WITH US AND WE WILL SHOOT
SQUARE WITH YOU.

While Mr. Dupont read, another sign made its appearance.

"SOLD OUT. COME AGAIN."

Winfield & Camby's office force were surprised to find the manager on
the job when they reached the salesrooms.

"Send me Mr. Black."

Mr. Dupont's orders were crisp and the publicity man hurried to obey his
bidding.

"Bring me those clippings on that Legonia Fish Cannery stuff, Black.
Also the ads in to-day's papers. Have you read that story of the mix-up
between the Americans and the alien fishermen at Diablo Island?"

Black admitted he had not.

"Get _The Times_ and read it," snapped the manager. "Come alive, Black,
and as soon as Da