dropped until all the claims I represent are paid in full. Several of
your associates in the reorganization have already sounded me on that,
and I've said no to all of them."

"Oh, you have, have you?" There was a hard glitter in Bassett's eyes and
his jaws tightened.

"All right, then; go ahead," he added, and walked grimly back to his
chair.

When the steamer stopped at his landing, Bassett jumped off and began
the ascent to his house without looking at Harwood again. Dan felt that
it had been worth the journey to hear direct from Bassett the
intimations of a wish to compromise the Canneries case. And yet, while
the boat was backing off, it was without exultation that he watched
Bassett's sturdy figure slowly climbing the steps. The signs of wear,
the loss of the politician's old elasticity, touched a chord of pity in
Harwood's breast. In the early days of their acquaintance it had seemed
to him that Bassett could never be beaten; and yet Dan had to-night read
defeat in his face and manner. The old Morton Bassett would never have
yielded an inch, never have made overtures of compromise. He would have
emerged triumphant from any disaster. Harwood experienced something of
the sensations of a sculptor, who, having begun a heroic figure in the
grand manner of a Michael Angelo, finds his model shrinking to a pitiful
pygmy. As Bassett passed from sight he turned with a sigh toward the
red, white and blue lanterns that advertised Mrs. Owen's dock to the
mariner.

"Well, well, if it isn't Daniel," exclaimed Mrs. Owen, as Harwood
greeted her and Sylvia on her veranda. "One of the farm hands quit
to-day and you can go to work in the morning, Daniel."

"Not if I'm strong enough to run, Aunt Sally. I'm going to have
forty-eight hours' vacation if I starve to death the rest of my life."

Rose Farrell had told him that Mrs. Owen was entertaining the Elizabeth
House girls in installments, and he was not surprised to find the
veranda filled with young women. Some of them he knew and Sylvia
introduced him to the others.

"When's Rose coming up?" asked Sylvia, balancing herself on the veranda
rail. "You know she's expected."

"Do I know she's expected? Didn't I have a note from you, Aunt Sally,
ordering me to send her up? She's coming just as soon as I get back, but
I think of staying forever."

"A man has come and he's come to stay forever," murmured one of the
young women.

"Oh, you're an event!" laughed Sylvia. "But don