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〃Ah； that complicates it！ I don't know anything about art。〃 March's look
of discouragement confessed the hold the scheme had taken upon him。
〃I don't want you to！〃 Fulkerson retorted。 〃Don't you suppose I shall
have an art man？〃
〃And will theythe artistswork at a reduced rate； too； like the
writers； with the hopes of a share in the success？〃
〃Of course they will！ And if I want any particular man； for a card； I'll
pay him big money besides。 But I can get plenty of first…rate sketches
on my own terms。 You'll see！ They'll pour in！〃
〃Look here； Fulkerson；〃 said March； 〃you'd better call this fortnightly
of yours 'The Madness o f the Half…Moon'； or 'Bedlam Broke Loose'
wouldn't be bad！ Why do you throw away all your hard earnings on such a
crazy venture？ Don't do it！〃 The kindness which March had always felt；
in spite of his wife's first misgivings and reservations； for the merry；
hopeful； slangy； energetic little creature trembled in his voice。 They
had both formed a friendship for Fulkerson during the week they were
together in Quebec。 When he was not working the newspapers there； he
went about with them over the familiar ground they were showing their
children； and was simply grateful for the chance； as well as very
entertaining about it all。 The children liked him； too； when they got
the clew to his intention； and found that he was not quite serious in
many of the things he said； they thought he was great fun。 They were
always glad when their father brought him home on the occasion of
Fulkerson's visits to Boston； and Mrs。 March； though of a charier
hospitality； welcomed Fulkerson with a grateful sense of his admiration
for her husband。 He had a way of treating March with deference； as an
older and abler man； and of qualifying the freedom he used toward every
one with an implication that March tolerated it voluntarily； which she
thought very sweet and even refined。
〃Ah； now you're talking like a man and a brother；〃 said Fulkerson。 〃Why；
March； old man； do you suppose I'd come on here and try to talk you into
this thing if I wasn't morally； if I wasn't perfectly； sure of success？
There isn't any if or and about it。 I know my ground； every inch； and I
don't stand alone on it；〃 he added； with a significance which did not
escape March。 〃When you've made up your mind I can give you the proof；
but I'm not at liberty now to say anything more。 I tell you it's going
to be a triumphal march from the word go； with coffee and lemonade for
the procession along the whole line。 All you've got to do is to fall
in。〃 He stretched out his hand to March。 〃You let me know as soon as
you can。〃
March deferred taking his hand till he could ask； 〃Where are you going？〃
〃Parker House。 Take the eleven for New York to…night。〃
〃I thought I might walk your way。〃 March looked at his watch。 〃But I
shouldn't have time。 Goodbye！〃
He now let Fulkerson have his hand； and they exchanged a cordial
pressure。 Fulkerson started away at a quick； light pace。 Half a block
off he stopped； turned round； and； seeing March still standing where he
had left him； he called back； joyously； 〃I've got the name！〃
〃What？〃
〃Every Other Week。〃
〃It isn't bad。〃
〃Ta…ta！〃
II。
All the way up to the South End March mentally prolonged his talk with
Fulkerson； and at his door in Nankeen Square he closed the parley with a
plump refusal to go to New York on any terms。 His daughter Bella was
lying in wait for him in the hall； and she threw her arms round his neck
with the exuberance of her fourteen years and with something of the
histrionic intention of her sex。 He pressed on； with her clinging about
him； to the library； and； in the glow of his decision against Fulkerson；
kissed his wife； where she sat by the study lamp reading the Transcript
through her first pair of eye…glasses： it was agreed in the family that
she looked distinguished in them； or； at any rate； cultivated。 She took
them off to give him a glance of question； and their son Tom looked up
from his book for a moment； he was in his last year at the high school；
and was preparing for Harvard。
〃I didn't get away from the office till half…past five；〃 March explained
to his wife's glance；〃 and then I walked。 I suppose dinner's waiting。
I'm sorry； but I won't do it any more。〃
At table he tried to be gay with Bella； who babbled at him with a voluble
pertness which her brother had often advised her parents to check in her；
unless they wanted her to be universally despised。
〃Papa！〃 she shouted at last； 〃you're not listening！〃 As soon as possible
his wife told the children they might be excused。 Then she asked； 〃What
is it； Basil？〃
〃What is what？〃 he retorted； with a specious brightness that did not
avail。
〃What is on your mind？〃
〃How do you know there's anything？〃
〃Your kissing me so when you came in； for one thing。〃
〃Don't I always kiss you when I come in？〃
〃Not now。 I suppose it isn't necessary any more。 'Cela va sans baiser。'〃
〃Yes； I guess it's so； we get along without the symbolism now。〃
He stopped； but she knew that he had not finished。
〃Is it about your business？ Have they done anything more？〃
〃No； I'm still in the dark。 I don't know whether they mean to supplant
me； or whether they ever did。 But I wasn't thinking about that。
Fulkerson has been to see me again。〃
〃Fulkerson？〃 She brightened at the name； and March smiled； too。
〃Why didn't you bring him to dinner？〃
〃I wanted to talk with you。 Then you do like him？〃
〃What has that got to do with it； Basil？〃
〃Nothing！ nothing！ That is； he was boring away about that scheme of his
again。 He's got it into definite shape at last。〃
〃What shape？〃
March outlined it for her； and his wife seized its main features with the
intuitive sense of affairs which makes women such good business…men when
they will let it。
〃It sounds perfectly crazy；〃 she said； finally。 〃 But it mayn't be。 The
only thing I didn't like about Mr。 Fulkerson was his always wanting to
chance things。 But what have you got to do with it？〃
〃What have I got to do with it？〃 March toyed with the delay the question
gave him； then he said； with a sort of deprecatory laugh： 〃It seems that
Fulkerson has had his eye on me ever since we met that night on the
Quebec boat。 I opened up pretty freely to him； as you do to a man you
never expect to see again； and when I found he was in that newspaper
syndicate business I told him about my early literary ambitions〃
〃You can't say that I ever discouraged them； Basil；〃 his wife put in。
〃I should have been willing； any time； to give up everything for them。〃
〃Well； he says that I first suggested this brilliant idea to him。
Perhaps I did； I don't remember。 When he told me about his supplying
literature to newspapers for simultaneous publication； he says I asked：
'Why not apply the principle of co…operation to a magazine； and run it in
the interest of the contributors？' and that set him to thinking； and he
thought out his plan of a periodical which should pay authors and artists
a low price outright for their work and give them a chance of the profits
in the way of a perc