ach the matter in his mind. It was always hard for him
to talk about Lily Cardew, and lately he had had a growing conviction
that Willy Cameron found it equally difficult. He wondered if Cameron,
too, was in love with Lily. There had been a queer look in his face on
those rare occasions when Pink had mentioned her, a sort of exaltation,
and an odd difficulty afterwards in getting back to the subject in hand.

Pink had developed an enormous affection and admiration for Willy
Cameron, a strange, loyal, half wistful, totally unselfish devotion. It
had steadied him, when the loss of Lily might have made him reckless,
and had taken the form in recent weeks of finding innumerable business
opportunities, which Willy Cameron cheerfully refused to take.

"I'll stay here until this other thing is settled," was Willy's
invariable answer. "I have a certain amount of time here, and the
fellows can drop in to see me without causing suspicion. In an office it
would be different. And besides, I can't throw Mr. Davis down. His wife
is in bad shape."

So, that afternoon, Pink waited until the Committee had dispersed, and
then said, with some difficulty:

"I saw her, Cameron. She has promised to leave."

"To-day?"

"This afternoon. I wanted to take her away, but she had some things to
do."

"Then she hadn't known before?"

"No. She thought it was just talk. And they'd kept the papers from her.
She hadn't heard about last night. Well, that's all. I thought you'd
want to know."

Pink started out, but Willy Cameron called him back.

"Have any of your people any influence with the Cardews?"

"No one has any influence with the Cardews, if you mean the Cardew men.
Why?"

"Because Cardew has got to get out of the mayoralty campaign. That's
all."

"That's a-plenty," said Pink, grinning. "Why don't you go and tell him
so?"

"I'm thinking of it. He hasn't a chance in the world, but he'll defeat
Hendricks by splitting the vote, and let the other side in. And you know
what that means."

"I know it," Pink observed, "but Mr. Cardew doesn't, and he won't after
you've told him. They've put a lot of money in, and once a Cardew has
invested in a thing he holds on like death. Especially the old man.
Wouldn't wonder he was the fellow who pounded the daylights out of Akers
last night," he added.

Willy Cameron, having carefully filled his pipe, closed the door into
the shop, and opened a window.

"Akers?" he inquired.

"Noon edition