you want
it for?" with a final protest.

"I've got an idea in my head, Morrissy. I want that receipt. Some day
you may take it into your head to testify that I offered you a
thousand to bring on the strike at Bennington's. That would put me in
and let you out, because I can't prove that I gave the cash to you.
Business is business."

"Hell! Any one would think, to hear you talk, that I had threatened to
betray."

"Every man to his own skin," replied McQuade philosophically. He then
sat down before the typewriter. There were two blank sheets in the
roller, with a carbon between. The girl had left her machine all ready
for the morrow's work. McQuade picked out his sentence laboriously.

"There, sign that."

The paper read:

"I, James Morrissy, the undersigned, do hereby declare that I have
received $1,000, in two sums of $500 each, from Daniel McQuade, these
sums being payment agreed upon for my bringing about the strike at the
Bennington shops."

Morrissy looked at the boss incredulously.

"I say, Mac, have you gone crazy?" he cried. "Do you want evidence
like this lying around in your safe? It's the penitentiary for both of
us if any one finds that."

"I know what I am doing," McQuade responded quietly, as indeed he did.

"But look; you've got the strike and I've got the cash; that makes us
quits."

"Sign it," was all McQuade replied to this argument.

"All right. What's bad for me is bad for you," and without further ado
Morrissy affixed his fist to the sheet.

"Here's the duplicate for you."

Morrissy lighted a match and set fire to the sheet; he stamped on the
ashes with grim satisfaction.

"Not for mine," with a laugh. "You're welcome to yours."

McQuade folded his deliberately and put it away in the safe. The sheet
of carbon paper he crumpled into a ball and tossed into the waste-basket.
We all commit blunders at one time or another, and McQuade had
just committed his.

"That's all, Morrissy. I think I can trust you fully. I mean no harm,
boy; 'tis only self-preservation."

"Oh, so long as your name's on it there's no kick coming from me; only
I never saw you do such a fool thing before. Anything else to-day?"

"No. You might keep tab on that fool Bolles. He's been drunk ever
since he came back from New York. And he doesn't know how to keep his
mouth shut."

"I'll keep an eye on him."

"He's the only man we have who can handle the dagos. I'll see you up
at Dutch Hall to-night. Donne