kick at the man behind those articles, he must distribute it evenly
between Comrade Windsor and myself."

"I see." Mr. Parker paused. "They are--er--very outspoken
articles," he added.

"Warm stuff," agreed Psmith. "Distinctly warm stuff."

"May I speak frankly?" said Mr. Parker.

"Assuredly, Comrade Parker. There must be no secrets, no restraint
between us. We would not have you go away and say to yourself, 'Did
I make my meaning clear? Was I too elusive?' Say on."

"I am speaking in your best interests."

"Who would doubt it, Comrade Parker. Nothing has buoyed us up more
strongly during the hours of doubt through which we have passed
than the knowledge that you wish us well."

Billy Windsor suddenly became militant. There was a feline
smoothness about the visitor which had been jarring upon him ever
since he first spoke. Billy was of the plains, the home of blunt
speech, where you looked your man in the eye and said it quick. Mr.
Parker was too bland for human consumption. He offended Billy's
honest soul.

"See here," cried he, leaning forward, "what's it all about? Let's
have it. If you've anything to say about those articles, say it
right out. Never mind our best interests. We can look after them.