rs could move her.

Every one suspected the worst, but no one really knew what was on foot,
for up to this time not a word was heard of suffrage for women.

Only one man besides Judge Regis seemed to know what was going forward.
This was Magnis Carter, and he refused to tell what he knew. He merely
explained that he was preparing certain announcements for the _Signal_,
which would of course include an advertisement of the new store. If
anybody wanted to know what was going on, let them read the _Signal_. It
always contained the news. He was tremendously puffed up. He was
inclined to snub the curious. Lord save us! did anybody think he was
going to give away his own scoop?

He was also silent about a certain transaction between him and Susan
Walton.

Three days before the formal opening of the Cooeperative Store, she
surprised him at his editorial desk. This was a deal table in a corner
of the printing office. It was littered with proof, scratch paper,
scissors, mucilage, pencils, inkwells, and a case of "pie." He was
engaged in sorting this. His collar and cravat hung upon a nail on the
wall above the table. He was in his shirt sleeves. His hair was rumpled,
his fingers inky.

But the first thing he thought of when he saw the old lady picking her
way between bales of paper near the door of the office, was his socks.
The day was very warm, and he thought he remembered pulling them down
to cool his legs. It was impossible to make sure. You cannot pull up
your socks in the presence of a woman, even an old woman. Besides, she
had her mouth primped severely and her eyes fixed with a soap-and-water
expression upon him.

He leaped from his chair, showing a purple rim around each ankle and the
bare skin above. He cast a despairing glance at his collar, and made a
dive for his coat.

"Oh, good afternoon, Mrs. Walton! Excuse me," he exclaimed, thrusting
his arms in the sleeves. "I was not expecting this honour, as you see!"

She advanced and deliberately seated herself in the chair he had
vacated.

"Don't trouble to put on your coat, Mr. Carter. It's very warm in here,"
fanning herself. "I think we shall have to move the _Signal_ to the
Woman's Building on the avenue. There is still the kitchen and pantry we
could use--very large pantry--make an excellent private editorial
office."

"I beg pardon, Madam, what did you say?"

He had forgotten his socks. His eyes protruded. She laughed--it was the
triumph of mind over