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Adelaide laughed, then became thoughtful. "Of course, lots of men do that. But Daddy does the white folks the same way: banks, wholesale houses, Yankees, anybody. I just admire and love him more than I can ever say. I have loved one or two other men, but I have never really admired anybody but him."

Abner drew a long breath, tinged with jealousy. "Well, let's go to him and see what we can do, Adelaide. You know we want to do right."

"Ye-es—right—Abner, your feeling of what is right gets a little hazy sometimes when you live in the same house with a great man. Is it right to break a horse and ride it somewhere?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh—nothing," and she manœuvred her motor around in the narrow road and drove back to her father's office on the courthouse square.

When they climbed the high steps and entered the room they found the magnate with a great pile of empty cigar boxes packing his claims against the Irontown Bank.

"I'm doin' this so the mice won't cut 'em," he explained. "Mice don't like t-backer."

Abner offered his assistance, and Railroad Jones was about to accept it when Adelaide interrupted, "No, don't let's get side-tracked. Daddy, Abner has come over to see you about Mr. Sandage."

The magnate looked up in surprise. "Why, he's seen me about him ever' day, Addy, for more'n a week now."

"He wants you to go over and talk to Mr. Sandage."

"No use in that, Addy, I know what Jim'll say."

"It's this use, Mr. Jones," put in Abner. "I kain't make you two fellers understan' each other runnin' back an' forth. I wish you'd git together, talk it over, an' gimme a rest."

"Now that's right, Daddy," seconded Adelaide, taking her father by the arm.

The fat man seemed distressed. "I don't like this," he said with a shake of the head that swung his jowls, "explainin'