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Updated: April 30, 2025
"No; the fact is, the Stevenses were due at Hollis Creek yesterday," confessed Mr. Princeman in cold return to the prying Billy, "and I think I'll stroll over and see if they've arrived." Sam Turner surveyed Princeman with a new interest. Danger lurked in Princeman's black eyes, fascination dwelt in his black hair, attractiveness was in every line of his athletic figure.
Princeman's words had undoubted weight, casting, as they did, a clammy suspicion upon Sam's samples. "I had thought of that," confessed Mr. Turner, "and had I not been prepared to meet such a natural doubt, to say nothing of such a natural insinuation, I should never have submitted these samples. Mr. Princeman, do you know G. W. Creamer of the Eureka Paper Mills?" Mr.
"I think I'll drop over to-morrow for a little while." "Glad to have you any time, Sam," responded Mr. Stevens heartily, "but there is no time like the present, you know. What's on your mind?" "This Marsh Pulp Company," said Sam; "do you know anything about pulp and paper?" "A little bit. You know I have some stock in Princeman's company." "Oh," returned Sam thoughtfully.
"Are you agreeable to Princeman's plan to pool all stock but Turner's?" "Well we can talk about that later." "Huh!" grunted Mr. Stevens, and together the two heavy-weights, Stevens with his aggressive beard suddenly pointed a trifle more straight out, and Mr. Westlake with his placidity even more marked than usual, stalked on into the parlor, where Mr.
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