she's out," Alys replied casually. "She left a note for you."

The note was a polite and noncommittal line informing George that
Genevieve would not be back for lunch. He felt as though a lump of ice
replaced his heart. His disappointment was the desperate disappointment
of a small boy.

He went back to the gloomy office and worked through the interminable
day. Late in the afternoon Mr. Doolittle lounged heavily in.

"Have some gum, George?" he inquired, inserting a large piece in his own
mouth.

He chewed rhythmically for a space. George waited. He knew that chewing
gum was not the ultimate object of Mr. Doolittle's visit.

"Don't women beat the Dutch?" he inquired at last. "Yes sir, mister;
they do!"

"What's up now?" George inquired. "The suffragists again?"

"Nope; not on the face of it they ain't. It's the Woman's Forum that's
doin' this. They've got a sweet little idea. 'Seein' Whitewater Sweat'
they call it.

"They're goin' around in bunches of twos, or mebbe blocks o' five,
seein' all the sights; an' you know women ain't reasonable, an' you
can't reason with them. They're goin' to find a pile o' things they
won't like in this little burg o' ours, all right, all right. An'
they'll want to have things changed right off. I want to see things
changed m'self. I'd like to, but them things take time, an' that's what
women won't understand.

"Jimminee, I've heard of towns all messed up and candidates ruined just
because the women got wrought up over tenement-house an' fire laws an'
truck like that. Yes sir, they're out seein' Whitewater this minut, or
will be if you can't divert their minds. Call 'em off, George, if you
can. Get 'em fussy about sumpen else."

"Why, what have I to do with it?" George inquired.

"Well, I didn't know but what you might have sumpen," said Mr. Doolittle
mildly. "It's that young lady that works here, Miss Sheridan, an' your
wife what's organizin' it. Planning it all out to Thorne's at lunch they
was, an' Heally was sittin' at the next table and beats it to me. You
can see for yerself what a hell of a mess they'll make!"

CHAPTER IX. BY ALICE DUER MILLER

It was a relief to both men when at this point the door of the office
opened and Martin Jaffry entered.

Not since the unfortunate anti-suffrage statement of George's had Uncle
Martin dropped in like this. George, looking at him with that first
swift glance that often predetermines a whole interview, made up his
mind