been made, and after all they had electrocuted the wrong man."
"Yes, a little error of that kind will occur, you know," said Doane, unfeelingly, "but then it only removed another of these filthy, foreign paupers. We have too many of these cattle on hand now. Not that I have any very great respect for the native toiler."
"What is your objection to him?" said Salmon.
"I like the laboring man well enough in his way," said Doane, "but I wish he would take a bath once in a while. There is too little sweat on his brow and too much on his hands to suit me."
"Yet your paper parades the fact," said Salmon, "that it fights his battles."
"I admit that," said Doane, with a wink, "we need readers and a circulation to justify us in raising advertising rates. This is business versus sentiment."
Just then Mr. Wayland, the stock broker, entered, and, as he took an easy chair, said, "I'll wager that Doane has just said something biting. There is on his face a smile of derision."
"No, I have been making practical suggestions; that is all. Have been talking about the Plebeian herd, and must have a quart of champagne with which to cleanse my tongue."
A button within easy reach is touched; a waiter appears; takes the order, and soon returns with the wine.
"It shall be on me," said Wayland. "I can afford it. I made a fortune today."
"How?" said Doane. "Did you bankrupt another railroad?"
"No; like Joseph I cornered wheat, and made a million. Will you help me spend it?"
