this morning's dispute there has been dissatisfaction and covert
insolence, and the two are thankful that the end of the trouble is
reached.

Grandon returns to the office heavy hearted in spite of all. There are
victories which ruin the conqueror, and even his may be too dearly
bought.

A knock at the half-open door rouses him, but before he answers he
knows it is Wilmarth.

"Mr. Grandon," begins that gentleman, with a kind of bitter suavity,
"may I inquire into the causes that have led to this very unwise
disturbance among our working forces?"

"I think the men are better able to tell their own story. They made an
abrupt demand of me that Mr. Rising must be dismissed or they would go.
Our agreement was for a month's trial, and the month is not ended. I
stand by my men."

Grandon's voice is slow and undisturbed by any heat of passion.

"But you do not know, perhaps. They were unjustly accused."

"Unjustly?"

That one word in the peculiar tone it is uttered checks Wilmarth
curiously.

"Mr. Grandon," and he takes a few quick steps up and down the room, "do
you assume that I have _no_ rights, that you have all the power, judgment,
and knowledge requisite for a large establishment like this, when it is
quite foreign to any previous experience of yours? Is no one to be
allowed a word of counsel or advice? or even to know what schemes or
plans are going on?"

"Mr. Wilmarth, all that was settled at Mr. Sherburne's office. It was
decided that, being the executor and trusted agent of my father, and
also the husband of Miss St. Vincent, gave me the controlling voice,
and you consented to the month's trial."

"And am I to stand idly by and let you drive the thing to ruin?
discharge workmen, break contracts, shut up the place, and have no
voice in the matter?"

"You had a voice then!"

"But you very wisely withheld the outcome of your plans. I should not
have consented to my own ruin."

"Mr. Wilmarth, if you can decide upon any reasonable price for your
share, I will purchase it. It cannot be a comfortable feeling to know
yourself in a sinking ship, with no means of rescue. If you are
doubtful of success, name your price."

He tries to study the face before him, but the sphinx is not more
inscrutable. Yet he feels that from some cause Wilmarth hates him, and
therein he is right. To be thwarted and outgeneralled is what this
black-browed man can illy bear. To receive a certain sum of money and
see his rival go