Pay up, or we'll turn off your gas." "Turn it off and be hanged," I exclaimed as I emerged from the office, tearing the bill to fragments.

Then I went home; and grasping that too lavish poker, I approached the meter.

It had registered another million feet since the bill was made out; it was running up a score of a hundred feet a minute; in a month I would have owed the gas company more than the United States Government owes its creditors.

So I beat the meter into a shapeless mass, tossed it into the street and turned off the gas inside the cellar.
Then I went down to the _Patriot_ office to persuade Major Slott to denounce the fraud practiced by the company.

While I was in the editorial room two or three visitors came in.