rsuade you
to get out of this fight. I guess, John, you're incorrigible. Well, no
hard feelings."

Boland laughed. "Have a drink as you go out. You need something to cheer
you up."

Grogan stopped. "Where's Harry?" he asked suddenly.

Boland flushed and his brow darkened.

"I don't know," he answered. "He and I have had a misunderstanding. He
insists on marrying this Welcome girl. I don't know where he is and I
don't care."

Grogan looked surprised. "John," he said, "I'd feel sorry for you if I
didn't know you are lying. You do care. You can't conceal it. You care
now, and worse you'll be caring more and more as time goes on. John,
there are some things even you can't do."

"Well, Mike, what are they?"

"You can't beat Nature and you can't beat God. Good day."

In vain Boland scoffed at Grogan's sentimentalism. Again and again the
words rose in his mind:

You can't beat Nature and you can't beat God.

The telephone rang. At the other end of the wire was that senator who had
been at his conference. He asked Boland in a frightened voice if he had
seen the papers, and then rang off.

Boland, alarmed, sent a boy in haste for the latest editions. The boy
returned and spread them out on the desk before him.

Again the telephone rang. This time it was the clergyman who had
participated in the conference.

"Do you know that Mary Randall is out in a statement that she knows full
details of what she calls the plot that resulted in the liberation of
Martin Druce?" he demanded. "She says she will give the whole thing to
the newspapers later. They are calling it in the streets below my study
window now. Can't something be done to head off that statement?"

"What would you suggest? Why don't you see some of the editors?" Boland
returned.

"Oh, that's impossible. My dear Boland, think of me. If my name should be
published in this connection my reputation would be ruined."

Boland laughed savagely into the telephone and hung up the receiver, only
to lift it again and hear another appeal for help, this from the
publisher. He also feared ruin.

Another call. The politician whose power in a great political party was a
by-word was barking at the other end of the wire. He accused Boland of
destroying him.

"You've destroyed us," he yelped. "We're ruined. You've blundered."

Boland was beyond speech by this time. He seized his hat and rushed out
into the street. Everywhere boys were shouting the extras. Several peopl