The information that I was to enter the lists against Krebs was received with satisfaction and approval by those of our friends who were called in to assist at a council of war in the directors’ room of the Corn National Bank.  I was flattered by the confidence these men seemed to have in my ability.  All were in a state of anger against the reformers; none of them seriously alarmed as to the actual outcome of the campaign,—­especially when I had given them the opinion of Mr. Jason.  What disturbed them was the possible effect upon the future of the spread of heretical, socialistic doctrines, and it was decided to organize a publicity bureau, independently of the two dominant political parties, to be in charge of a certain New York journalist who made a business of such affairs, who was to be paid a sum commensurate with the emergency.  He was to have carte blanche, even in the editorial columns of our newspapers.  He was also to flood the city with “literature.”  We had fought many wars before this, and we planned our campaign precisely as though we were dealing with one of those rebellions in the realm of finance of which I have given an instance.  But now the war chest of our opponents was negligible; and we were comforted by the thought that, however disagreeable the affair might be while it lasted, in the long run capital was invincible.

Before setting to work to prepare my speeches it was necessary to make an attempt to familiarize myself with the seemingly unprecedented line of argument Krebs had evolved—­apparently as disconcerting to his friends as to his opponents.  It occurred to me, since I did not care to attend Krebs’s meetings, to ask my confidential stenographer, Miss McCoy, to go to Turner’s Hall and take down one of his speeches verbatim.  Miss McCoy had never intruded on me her own views, and I took for granted that they coincided with my own.

“I’d like to get an accurate record of what he is saying,” I told her.  “Do you mind going?”

“No, I’ll be glad to go, Mr. Paret,” she said quietly.

“He’s doing more harm than we thought,” I remarked, after a moment.  “I’ve known him for a good many years.  He’s clever.  He’s sowing seeds of discontent, starting trouble that will be very serious unless it is headed off.”

Miss McCoy made no comment....

Before noon the next day she brought in the speech, neatly typewritten, and laid it on my desk.  Looking up and catching her eye just as she was about to withdraw, I was suddenly impelled to ask:—­“Well, what did you think of it?”

She actually flushed, for the first time in my dealings with her betraying a feeling which I am sure she deemed most unprofessional.

“I liked it, Mr. Paret,” she replied simply, and I knew that she had understated.  It was quite apparent that Krebs had captivated her.  I tried not to betray my annoyance.

“Was there a good audience?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said.