“My name’s Mark Tidd—Marcus Aurelius Fortunatus Tidd, and these f-f-fellers are Tallow Martin, Plunk Smalley, and Binney Jenks. We put p-p-principle first because it looks to us like it was consid’able more important to see everything in the world done square than just to see one little thing that concerns us done square.”
The men around the table kind of leaned forward and looked at Mark close and interested.
“Go ahead,” says President James.
“I protest,” says Wiggamore. “These boys have got in my way, and they’re here with lying stories about me. I protest against wasting our time with a lot of kids.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” says President James. “It looks like they had something to say, and I’m for listening to them. This Mark Tidd made an interesting start.”
“Let ’em go ahead,” says the fat director, and he nodded to Mark.
“Well,” says Mark, slow and careful and sort of hand-picking every word to get a good sound one without wormholes in it, “well, we got it into our heads that the Middle-West Power Company must have honest men runnin’ it, and that they wouldn’t be likely to stand for cheatin’ and underhand work. We b-believed that business couldn’t go on if that wasn’t so, and we come to find out. If it was so, we wanted to show you how things goes on that you don’t understand about—that gits b-b-blamed onto you and makes some f-folks think all business men is crooked. That’s why we came.”
“Go ahead,” says President James. “Tell it to us.”
“We own the dam and mill in Wicksville,” says Mark, “and we and Silas Doolittle Bugg have been runnin’ it.”
“Mark’s been the boss,” says I.