xplained Mr. Ball, "if one of 'em falls behind in his
grocery bill, for example, he can always get money from Job. Job takes a
mortgage, but he don't often close down on 'm. And Job has been
collectin' credentials in Avalon County for upward of forty years."

"Collecting credentials?"

"Yes. Gets a man nominated to State and county conventions that can't go,
and goes himself with a bunch of credentials. He's in a position to
negotiate. He was in all them railrud fights with Jethro Bass, and now he
does business with Hilary Vane or Brush Bascom when anything especial's
goin' on. You'd ought to see him, Mr. Crewe."

"I guess I won't waste my time with any picayune boss if the United
Northeastern Railroads has any hand in this matter," declared Mr. Crewe.
"Wind her up."

This latter remark was addressed to a long-suffering chauffeur who looked
like a Sicilian brigand.

"I didn't exactly like to suggest it," said Mr. Ball, rubbing his hands
and raising his voice above the whir of the machine, "but of course I
knew Mr. Flint was an intimate friend. A word to him from you--"

But by this Mr. Crewe had got in his second speed and was sweeping around
a corner lined with farmers' teams, whose animals were behaving like
circus horses. On his own driveway, where he arrived in incredibly brief
time, he met his stenographer, farm superintendent, secretary,
housekeeper, and general utility man, Mr. Raikes. Mr. Raikes was elderly,
and showed signs of needing a vacation.

"Telephone Mr. Flint, Raikes, and tell him I would like an appointment at
his earliest convenience, on important business."

Mr. Raikes, who was going for his daily stroll beside the river, wheeled
and made for the telephone, and brought back the news that Mr. Flint
would be happy to see Mr. Crewe the next afternoon at four o'clock.

This interview, about which there has been so much controversy in the
newspapers, and denials and counter-denials from the press bureaus of
both gentlemen,--this now historic interview began at four o'clock
precisely the next day. At that hour Mr. Crewe was ushered into that
little room in which Mr. Flint worked when at Fairview. Like Frederick
the Great and other famous captains, Mr. Flint believed in an iron
bedstead regime. The magnate was, as usual, fortified behind his oak
desk; the secretary with a bend in his back was in modest evidence; and
an elderly man of comfortable proportions, with a large gold watch-charm
portrayi