no falt of mine. i got to spell rite when the rules sa so. no falt
of mine. i aint makin rules i sais to him. pres of interurban is
responssibel how we spel. i onnly spel as he sais too. Flannery."
The president received the two letters in the same mail. He read that of
Mr. Warold first, and when he came to a threat to sue the company, he
frowned. This was all new to him. There was nothing in the letter about
five hundred indisposed cattle of any kind. He looked up Flannery's
telegrams, but they cast no light on it. Then he opened Flannery's
letter and read it. He got up and began walking up and down his office,
stopping now and then to shake the fist in which he had crumpled
Flannery's letter. Then he called for Miss Merrill.
She came, carrying her notebook in one hand and fixing a comb in the
back of her hair with the other.
"Take this!" said the president angrily. "Flannery, Westcote--" He
tramped back and forth, trying to condense all the bitterness that
boiled in him into telling words.
"You are a fool!" he said at length, meaning Flannery and not Miss
Merrill.
Then he thought a while.
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