to approve. I am going to
have Valiquet's, the jewelers, brought to the notice of Fifth Avenue
through the medium of our sandwich-men. I anticipate objections. The
statute clearly says we must not use a person's name for purposes of
trade without his consent. But I'm not going to use the name of a
person, but of a corporation, _for its own trade and profit_. There is
no law that can prevent me from putting money into a corporation's
treasury--"

"A commission of lunacy--"

"Be quiet. They can't stop me legally, if you are our counsel." Max
bowed, opened his mouth, and promptly closed it when he saw H. R.'s
face. "They might try to get out an injunction, but you must beat them
to it. They will probably try to get the police to stop us by alleging
breach of the peace, disorderly conduct, or some violation of a city
ordinance. I want you to prepare in advance restraining orders or
applications for injunctions or whatever is needed to prevent
interference with us. You are the counsel of the Society of American
Sandwich Artists. Prepare papers also in the names of individual
members. The poor sandwich artist, working for a mere pittance, without
money to pay his able but charitable and indignant counsel, will fight
the richest jewelry-shop in the world. The pearl showcase alone would
feed one hundred and eighty-six thousand, four hundred and fifty-one men
one week. Do you get that?"

"Do I?" Max Onthemaker, able and indignant, was rushing to embrace
H. R., on whose face he saw ten thousand front-page head-lines, when
H. R. said, coldly:

"Sit down. This is only the beginning."

Max sat down. He felt very much more like kneeling in adoration before
this god of success.

"Yes, sir," he murmured, prayerfully, and looked with his very soul.

"Be ready with the papers for the papers."

Perceiving a puzzled look on the lawyer's face, H. R. explained: "Draw
the legal papers up so they will be news. And remember that _I_ am the
society. You are merely a lawyer lucky enough to be _its_ lawyer. If you
don't know what the reporters like to print, bring the injunctions and
typewritten argument to me this afternoon. Go away now. I'm going to
Valiquet's."

"Not to--"

"Not to anything you may think."

Max Onthemaker walked away, and even as he walked he began to fear that
the newspapers would not let him have more than twenty-eight columns. It
behooved him to be brief. What with the immemorial wrongs of the poor,
and the