"Of course not," she answered. "But don't laugh, Stephen; there's really something in all this. And in other matters, too. The Judge has sold his street-railroad stock."
Ellis roused at once. "He has? To whom?"
"Mr. Pease."
"Well," and the promoter relaxed again. "I am glad that the Judge is out of it, even if Pease is deeper in."
"Abiel kept back five shares," said the Judge's worthy wife, "and when next it comes to a stockholders' meeting, he'll be there. I can't do anything with him; you know that well enough. All I can do is to tell you what he tells me. Stephen," and her voice became persuasive, "why not take notice of complaints?"
"You mean transfers?" he inquired.
"Yes, and better service: more cars at the rush hours, and more attention to the suburbs."
"Higher wages to the men, too, I suppose?" he asked.
"You don't want a strike?" she cried.
"Now stop worrying!" he commanded. "You hear the Judge at the breakfast table, and never see my side. Who does he say are against me—Pease, Fenno, Branderson—all their kind?"