xplained to him where I came in. "All right," he
said. "Go ahead. But I'll put nothing in writing." "Mr.
Guggenbaum, you don't need to," I said. "You're as fair
and square as I am and that's enough for me."

His daughter let me out of the house door when I went.
I guess she'd been pretty scared that she'd done wrong
about letting me in. But I said to her it was all right,
and after that when I wanted to see the old man I'd always
ask for her and she'd see that I got in all right.

Got them squeezed out? Oh, yes, easy. There wasn't any
trouble about that. You see the old man worked up a sort
of jolt in wholesale leather on one side, and I fixed up
a strike of the hands on the other. We passed the dividend
two quarters running, and within a year we had them all
scared out and the bulk of the little shareholders, of
course, trooped out after them. They always do. The old
man picked up the stock when they dropped it, and one-half
of it he handed over to me.

That's what put me where I am now, do you see, with the
whole control of the industry in two states and more than
that now, because we have the Amalgamated Tanneries in
with us, so it's practically all one concern.

Guggenbaum? Did I squeeze him out? No, I didn't because,
you see, I didn't have to. The way it was--well, I tell
you--I used to go up to the house, see, to arrange things
with him--and the way it was--why, you see, I married
his daughter, see, so I didn't exactly _need_ to squeeze
him out. He lives up with us now, but he's pretty old
and past business. In fact, I do it all for him now, and
pretty well everything he has is signed over to my wife.
She has no head for it, and she's sort of timid anyway
--always was--so I manage it all. Of course, if anything
happens to the old man, then we get it all. I don't think
he'll last long. I notice him each day, how weak he's
getting.

My son in the business? Well, I'd like him to be. But he
don't seem to take to it somehow--I'm afraid he takes
more after his mother; or else it's the college that's
doing it. Somehow, I don't think the colleges bring out
business character, do you?

X. A Study in Still Life--My Tailor

He always stands there--and has stood these thirty
years--in the back part of his shop, his tape woven about
his neck, a smile of welcome on his face, waiting to
greet me.

"Something in a serge," he says, "or perhaps in a tweed?"

There are only these two choices open to us. We ha