But, dearie--don't you see she thinks if she does, her father and mother will lose the big house, and Bob will be involved in some kind of trouble?
They keep that before her all of the time.

She says that John is always insisting that she be nice to Brownwell.

And you know the Culpeppers think Brownwell is--well, you know what they think." They worked along for a while, and the general stopped and put his foot on his spade and cried: "That boy--that boy--that boy! Isn't he selling his soul to the devil by bits?
A little chunk goes every day.
And oh, my dear, my dear--" he broke out, "what profiteth a man if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?
Poor, poor John." He fell to his work again, sighing, "Poor John, poor John!" So they talked on until the afternoon grew old.
And while they were talking, John and General Hendricks were in Barclay's office going over matters, and seeing where they stood.
"So he says seventy thousand is too much for the company and me to owe ?" said John, at the end of half an hour's conference.
The general was drumming his fingers on the table nervously.

"Yes--he says we've got to reduce that in thirty days, or he'll close us up.
Haven't you got any political influence, somewhere in the East, John,--some of those stockholders,--that will hold this matter up till you can harvest your crop next June ?" Barclay thought a moment, with his hand in his chin, and then slowly shook his head.

A bank inspector from Washington was several degrees higher in the work of politics than Barclay had gone.
"Let me see--" droned Barclay; "let me see.