ifth Avenue's wares.

Mr. Wilberforce Josslyn, president of Valiquet's corporation, was told
of the sandwich desecration of the holy name. His private secretary
alone had the courage to impart the news.

Mr. Wilberforce Josslyn, feeling that he had to be to his help what his
firm was to the world, turned around in his Circassian-walnut
swivel-chair, said, "_Stop 'em!_" and revolved again.

The secretary carried the order to the first vice-president, Mr. Angus
MacAckus; the first vice-president took it upon himself not only to stop
'em, but to punish 'em. He hastily descended to the main floor. What he
saw through the Fifth Avenue doors appalled him, and worse. Even within
the sacred precincts of the shop the reckless jewel-buying public and
the conservative charge-accounts alike were talking about it, actually
congratulating the gentlemanly salesmen and the courtly
department-managers and the obliging watch-repairers.

Two men, whom he recognized as reporters by their intellectual faces,
approached him, but he ran away from them toward the door.

Mrs. Vandergilt, undisputed Tsarina of society, was in one of the
compartments of the plate-glass and solid-silver stile, and he waited in
order to welcome her. They did not make a hundred thousand a year out of
her, for she was not from Detroit, but they had been official jewelers
to the family for sixty years, as they were of all the Vans who were Van
Somebody. The annual storage of the Vandergilt crown jewels was a
regular yearly story, like the police parade and the first snow-storm.

"MacAckus," said Mrs. Vandergilt in her sharp, imperious voice, "why did
you do it? Not to advertise?"

"Certainly not," answered Mr. MacAckus, forgetting himself and speaking
with heat.

"I thought not. Well, I am glad you are helping. I shall send my check
to them. Poor men!" Then she had one of those moments of kindliness that
made people worship her: "It was a very clever thing to do, MacAckus. I
am glad you had not only the brains, but the courage."

The reporters heard her. It was their business to get the news. Mr.
MacAckus realized that Mrs. Vandergilt's approval had changed the
complexion of the affair. At the same time, Valiquet's never talked for
publication, and the remarks of their clients were sacred. He turned to
the reporters and said in the peremptory tone that makes reporters so
obedient:

"Not a word of this! Do you understand?"

"We understand perfectly," said