"Don't get sore," said Brockton. "It's common sense, and it goes, does it not?"
"Just what goes?" demanded the journalist, turning sharply.
Brockton eyed him gravely for a second or two; then he said slowly:
"If she leaves you first, you are to tell me, and if she comes to me, I'll make her let you know just when and why——"
A fierce flame again blazed out from the big fellow's eyes. He half started from his chair, and he flung his fist out threateningly.
"Look out!" he cried.
"I said 'common sense,'" rejoined Brockton quietly.
"All right," replied his rival, more calmly.
"Agreed?" demanded the broker.
"You're on," muttered Madison.