ersonally, I'm grieved to have
to take this stand against John Starkweather's nephew. You understand
that, don't you?"

Henry nodded assent. "Why, certainly. Your motives are purer than the
thoughts of childhood. The only thing I _don't_ understand is what all
this has to do with my congratulating you?"

"Oh, nothing whatever. Nothing at all. It was just your manner."

"Let's come out in the open, then. How do you think you _could_ put a
stop to it? Because if you could, why, I'll save you the trouble."

Mr. Mix hesitated. "You were always an original young man, Henry. But
if it's my duty to stop your show, why should I give away my plans? So
you could anticipate 'em?"

"No, I've done that already."

"Now, Henry, that sounds too conceited to be like _you_."

"Oh, no, it's only a fact. But here--I'll run through the list for
you. Have me pinched under the ordinance? Can't be done; the City
Attorney's said so, and I saw the Chief of Police was in on it. Get an
injunction? You can't do that either, because--"

"Why can't we?"

"Because I've got one already."

Mr. Mix's jaw dropped. "What's that? _How_ could you--"

"Oh, I got Bob Standish--just as a citizen tax-payer--to apply for a
temporary injunction yesterday, to test it out. It's being argued this
morning. Don't you want to come over and hear it? If I lose, I won't
open next Sunday at all; and if I win, then the League can't get an
injunction later.... What else can you do?"

"We may have other cards up our sleeves," said Mr. Mix, stiltedly.

"Just the place I'd have looked for 'em," said Henry, but his tone was
so gentle and inoffensive that Mr. Mix only stared.

He shook hands with Henry, and hurried over to the Court House, where
he arrived just in time to hear the grey-haired jurist say,
dispassionately: "Motion denied."

Mr. Mix swabbed his face, and thought in lurid adjectives. He
wouldn't have dared, in view of Mirabelle's opinion, to ask for an
injunction on behalf of the League itself, but it had occurred to him
that he might arrange the matter privately. He could persuade one of
the old moss-backs that Mirabelle might be swayed by her relationship
to Henry (this struck him as the height of sardonic humour), and the
moss-back could go into Court as an individual, to enjoin the Sunday
performance as opposed to public policy. But Henry had outstripped
him; and furthermore, there was no question of judicial favour. The
Judge who had refused th