u
think you want one thing, but you're after another. Still--keep it up.
The world is coming to wonderful things."

"That's queer talk," said Joe, "coming from a multimillionaire."

The multimillionaire laughed.

"But I'm getting rid of the multi, Mr. Blaine. What more would you have
me do? Each his own way. Besides"--he screwed up his eye shrewdly--"come
now, aren't you hanging on to some capital?"

"Yes--in a way!"

"So are we all! You're a wise man! Keep free, and then you can help
others!"

The most interesting caller, however, judged from the standpoint of
Joe's life, was Theodore Marrin, Izon's boss, manufacturer of high-class
shirtwaists, whose Fifth Avenue store is one of the most luxurious in
New York. He came to Joe while the great cloak-makers' strike was still
on, at a time when families were reduced almost to starvation, and when
the cause seemed quite hopeless.

Theodore Marrin came in a beautiful heavy automobile. He was a short
man, with a stout stomach; his face was a deep red, with large, slightly
bulging black eyes, tiny mustache over his full lips; and he was dressed
immaculately and in good taste--a sort of Parisian-New Yorker,
hail-fellow-well-met, a mixer, a cynic, a man about town. He swung his
cane lightly as he tripped up the steps, sniffed the air, and knocked on
the door of the editorial office.

Billy opened.

"Yes, sir."

"Mr. Blaine in?"

"He's busy."

"I should hope he was! There, my boy." He deftly waved Billy aside and
stepped in. "Well! well! Mr. Blaine!"

Joe turned about, and arose, and accepted Mr. Marrin's extended hand.

"Who do you think I am?"

Joe smiled.

"I'm ready for anything."

"Well, Mr. Blaine, I'm the employer of one of your men. You know Jacob
Izon?"

"Oh, you're Mr. Marrin! Sit down."

Marrin gazed about.

"Unique! unique!" He sat down, and pulled off his gloves. "I've been
wanting to meet you for a long time. Izon's been talking, handing me
your paper. It's a delightful little sheet--I enjoy it immensely."

"You agree with its views?"

"Oh no, no, no! I read it the way I read fiction! It's damned
interesting!"

Joe laughed.

"Well, what can I do for you?"

"What can I do for _you_!" corrected Marrin.

"See here, Mr. Blaine, I'm interested. How about taking a little ad.
from me, just for fun, to help the game along?"

"We don't accept ads."

"Oh, I know! But if I contribute handsomely! I'd like to show it around
to my friends