"Why, if the old man sticks to his position, and I stick to March, we've both got to go overboard together. Dryfoos owns the magazine; he can stop it, or he can stop us, which amounts to the same thing, as far as we're concerned."
"And then what?" the girl pursued.
"And then, nothing—till we pick ourselves up."
"Do you mean that Mr. Dryfoos will put you both oat of your places?"
"He may."
"And Mr. Mawch takes the risk of that jost fo' a principle?"
"I reckon."
"And you do it jost fo' an ahdeal?"
"It won't do to own it. I must have my little axe to grind, somewhere."
"Well, men awe splendid," sighed the girl. "Ah will say it."