Tom read, and the wrathful scowl evoked by the foolish editorial gave place to a flitting smile of triumph. There was trouble in the Indiana city over the awarding of the pipe contract. In some way unknown to the press reporter, it had leaked out that a much lower bid than the one accepted had been ignored by the purchasing committee. A municipal election was pending, and the people were up in arms. Rumors of a wholesale indictment of the suspected officials were rife, and the city offices were in a state of siege.
Tom put the paper down and smote on the desk.
"Damn them!" he said; "I thought perhaps I could give them a run for their money."
"You?" said Caleb, removing his glasses. "How's that?"
The new recruit in the army of business chicane nodded his head.
"It was a shot in the dark, and I didn't want to brag beforehand," he explained. "I wrestled it out Saturday night when I was tramping the hills after Doc Williams had brought mother around. One member of the purchasing committee was ready to dodge; he gave me a pointer before I left Louisville. I didn't see anything in it then but revenge; but afterward I saw how we might spend some money to a possible advantage."
Caleb's eyes had grown narrow.
"I reckon I'm sort o' dull, Buddy; what-all did you do?"
"Wired the disgruntled one that there was a letter and a check in the mail for him, to be followed by another and a bigger if his pole proved long enough to reach the persimmons."
The old iron-master left his chair and began to walk the floor, six steps and a turn. After a little he said: