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 to Floyd's considerate care, hardly the echoes of the disturbance created by the article in the Contemporary Review reached Colonel Halket's ears. To be sure, the Colonel read with great enjoyment the editorial comment in two of the three Avalon newspapers—comment so respectful, courteous, and sympathetic that a man who was the subject of it could not avoid thinking better both of himself and of the press. As for the officials of the mills, Floyd had called them together and explained his grandfather's attitude. The explanation made them very gloomy.

"I tell you this, Mr. Halket," said one of the men, bringing his fist down on the table, "if that's the Colonel's position, then it means disaster."

"I hope not," Floyd answered. "My grandfather's been in this business a good while, and it's quite likely he's wiser about it than any of us. Anyway we've got to accept his view, whether we sympathize with it or not,—all the more because he's gone on record publicly. Has anybody here seen the Contemporary Review for this month?"

No one had seen it, and Floyd prepared them for the article as tactfully as possible; but in spite of that, when he met Gregg again the next day, he found him injured, aggrieved, and discouraged.

"A thing like that can just about undo ten years' work," Gregg said dejectedly. "It is n't the implications against my judgment and management—it is n't those so much that I mind; but it's the fact that Colonel Halket has got