About this time Betty was taken sick, so that I used to go into the Élite Restaurant for my lunches. This was a place frequented by a number of business men. Stigler was in there one day when I got in, talking with some of the people who regularly dined there. If ours wasn't a dry town, I should have said that Stigler had been drinking; for, the minute he saw me, he flushed, and an ugly expression came into his face.

"There he is," he cried to his friends, pointing at me, and he spoke in a voice loud enough for me and everybody else in the place to hear. "There he is! A pretty little chap he is—oh, so nice that he is!—to stab his competitor in the back. D—d young whelp!" he said to his friends, but at me. "What do yer think of a feller that goes behind yer back to hurt yer character? I'd sooner a feller'd come out in the open and fight. D—d character assassin!"

His friends looked rather embarrassed. I sat down at the table, apparently not paying the least attention to him, but my head was in a whirl. Then I gave my order to Kitty. I suppose Kitty had another name, but everybody knew her as Kitty. She was a pretty little Irish girl, who had come to our town about five years ago, nobody knew from where. Old Collier, the big, fat, kindly old Frenchman who ran the place, at once had given her a job. He was too big-hearted to inquire why she came by herself and why her eyes showed signs of sleeplessness and weeping. He not only gave her a job, but, in a few weeks, had taken her into the family. She at first became known jokingly as Kitty Collier, and soon everybody thought of her by that name. She thought the whole universe revolved around genial old Pierre, who really regarded her as he would his own daughter.

When Kitty first came into the town Betty at once had become her friend; and in fact Betty had been quite severely criticized for making a friend of a girl whose character was unknown. Kitty thought a lot of Betty and, in consequence, of me also.

"I'll bring ye some nice steak," said Kitty with her pretty brogue, and unobtrusively patted my back. She sensed the unhappy position I was in.

When she came back, Stigler was saying in a loud voice: "There are some people—and their name ain't White, either—that ought to be ridden out o' town!"

Crash! Kitty had dropped her plate, and, to the surprise of every one—especially to me,—she walked over to where Stigler was sitting, gave his hair a vigorous pull, and said:

"Arrah, now, ye dir-rty blackguard, ye're not a gintleman yerself, an' ye doan't know one, if ye see one. Mr. Black, there, is too much of gintleman to sile his hands on the likes o' you, but I'm not!" and with that she gave him a resounding box on the ear.

Stigler jumped up with an oath, while old Pierre ran from behind the counter; Stigler, black with rage, Pierre almost crying with vexation.Stigler caught Kitty by the arm and angrily swung her around, and then—I forgot myself. I rushed at him and caught him fairly under the jaw. He fell back among the tables; and then some people caught hold of us, and held us both back. Finally Stigler walked out of the restaurant, without another word, while I sat down at the table to eat my steak; but I was trembling all over with the excitement and could eat nothing.

I felt that there was nothing I wouldn't do to be able to run Stigler out of the town. Why he should be so bitter against me I didn't know, unless it was that my business was slowly growing. Of course he had been fond of Betty, but surely he was all over that.

Old Barlow came over to the store, having heard of the fracas.

"Look here, Black," he said, "I want you to forget that fracas. Forget Stigler as much as you can. If you see him, don't speak to him; but just drive ahead and 'saw wood.' If he likes to waste his energies in thinking up ways of getting revenge, why, let him do so. Just keep your attention on your business and you'll have a successful business when he is forgotten. No man can build a successful business on spite. No man can increase his bank account while he's trying to make his business a weapon to secure revenge against some one else. I have seen so many business men spoil themselves because they began to worry over competition, and, instead of just seeing how they could improve their methods of business they spent good time in seeing how they could fight one individual competitor. Success to-day isn't made by downing the other fellow, but by building up one's own efficiency in business methods. There's room for you and Stigler and me in this town—in fact," he said with a smile, "we are going to have a little more competition yet."

"Where?" I asked, surprised.

"In Macey Street."

Macey Street was a busy little street connecting High and Main.

"Who is it?"

"I don't know; but I understand it's one of a chain of stores."

"What kind of goods are they going to handle?"

"Kitchen goods, same as you."

"H'm," I said with a grin, "I guess I'll have to go into the agricultural implements business and compete with you!"

"Go to it! Good luck to you!" But he knew that I couldn't do that, for I hadn't the money to put in the necessary stock; and, besides, Mr. Barlow had had that business for years.

When I told the Mater about it, she replied: "It seems to me unreasonable to say that, because Mr. Barlow has had that business for years, you should avoid it; but I really hope you won't try for it, because Mr. Barlow is such a good friend of yours, and his friendship and the help which he has given you is worth more to you than what you might earn from selling those goods. If you did, he might retaliate and sell electrical goods, and, you know, you are getting quite a name for those."

It was a fact; we were selling quite a lot of electrical goods—indeed, I believed we were going to build up a very substantial business in them before long. I was thinking of making a special department of them, and hiring a girl to be in charge of it. I knew that many people would think it funny to have a girl in a hardware store, but, just the same, I had a hunch that a girl could handle that kind of goods better than a man.