You can bet we all caught the one-o’clock train, and we enjoyed the ride to the city, for all that we were going on such important business, and for all of the fact that none of us had the least idea in the world what we were going to do but Mark. He knew. You could tell by the way he acted that he knew exactly, and was going to do it or bust. There was just one surprise, and that was that Amassa P. Wiggamore got on the same train. He didn’t see us, because he rode in the parlor-car and we rode in the regular coach. Mark said he judged we’d see more of him before we got back home again. We did.

When we got to the city we went to the hotel we knew about and got two rooms, and then we had supper and walked around a little, looking in windows and at folks on the street, and had a bully time. Mark set a record for eating peanuts. He got away with three bags between seven o’clock and nine, when we went to bed, and they were good big bags, too. Each of us ate a bag, but he said it was his duty to eat just as much as we did, so he had to have one for each of us.

He woke us up in the morning, and saw to it that when we dressed we fixed up special and neat, because he let on that when you were going to see big business men it made a heap of difference how you looked and whether they got a good impression of you right off. He made me tie my tie three times, and Binney had to comb his hair over, and Tallow had to shine up his shoes. I got kind of scared on account of making such preparations as that. I tell you things are pretty serious when a fellow has to be as fussy as Mark seemed to be.

Anyhow, he got us dressed to suit him, and then we had breakfast, and then we started out to an address that Mark had found out before he left Wicksville. We walked, and it was quite a ways, but we knew there wasn’t any use getting there too early. Our experience with the railroad men proved that. We figured we would get there about nine o’clock, which we did. But that was too early, so we went for another walk and got back at ten.

Then we went up in the elevator to the tenth floor and got off, and Mark led us along till we came to a door that said Middle-West Power Company on it, and he turned the knob and walked right in as bold as brass. I went right behind him, though I didn’t want to much, for I sort of figured we’d get thrown out faster than we went in. But we didn’t.

There was a young lady at a desk and Mark asked her if the president was in.

“President James is in a meeting of the board of directors,” she said, as courteous as could be. “He’ll be busy some time. Can I do anything?”

“Board of directors of the P-Power Company?”

“Yes.”

“Better l-luck than I expected,” says Mark. “We want to see all of that b-board of directors. How kin we m-manage it?”

“Why,” says she, “I’m afraid you can’t manage it! They’re pretty busy, you know.”

“This is important—to t-t-them,” says Mark. “It’s about their dam and p-p-power-plant to Wicksville. We own the dam and there’s other things we’re mixed up in. We just got to get to see them.”

“I wouldn’t dare let you in,” says she.

“Suppose you just l-l-look the other way, and we’ll walk in, anyhow,” says Mark.

“I couldn’t do that,” she says.

“No,” says Mark, “I s’pose it wouldn’t be right.”

And just then in walks Wiggamore!

He gave one look at us and scowled. Then he marched right over to us and says, as savage as a mean watch-dog, “Git out of here!”

“Not to-day,” says Mark. “We’re here on business.”

“Git out before I throw you out,” says Wiggamore. He raised his voice so it was pretty loud, and Mark spoke back to him just a little louder, and afterward I found out he did it on purpose. He wanted to be heard, because he figured that was about the only way he would get into the board meeting.

“I’m here on b-b-business with President James,” he said, “and I’m going to stay. You won’t t-throw us out, Mr. Wiggamore, and you hadn’t better try. You looked for trouble, and we’re here with it, and we’re goin’ to see President James and don’t you forget it.” He lifted his voice a little louder and almost hollered, “President James is the m-man we got to see, and if he knew about the p-papers I got in my pocket he’d see us mighty quick.”

“Hush!” says Wiggamore. “Don’t yell so in here.”

Just then a door opened and a great big man with shoulders as broad as a house, and with white hair and a white mustache, and a face that looked like it was carved out of a rock, but that you kind of took a liking to right off, looked out. He looked cross. When I say you took a liking to him, I don’t mean that exactly. I mean you felt a kind of a respect for him. That’s the way he looked.

“Here, here!” says he. “What’s all this disturbance?”

“These boys,” says Wiggamore. “I can’t get rid of them.”

“So it seems, Wiggamore. What ails ’em?”

“They want to see you, sir,” said the young woman. “The noise really wasn’t their fault.”

“It wasn’t, eh? Did you tell them I was in a board meeting?”

“Yes, and then they wanted to see the whole board. They come from Wicksville.”

At that President James shot a kind of a look at us and stepped a little closer.

“What about Wicksville?” says he.

Wiggamore interrupted. “These kids,” says he, “have been making a pest of themselves there. I don’t know why they came here, but I’ll ’tend to them. I’ll see they don’t disturb you any more.”

“Um!... Four boys don’t come ’way to the city from Wicksville and try to break into a board meeting without there’s something back of it. We’ve been talking about that Wicksville situation this morning, and if these boys can clear it up any I’d like to talk to them. As for me, I don’t understand it.”

“We kin clear it up a l-l-lot,” says Mark. “Just take us into that meeting and l-l-let us tell you.”

“It’s nonsense,” says Wiggamore. “It’s some kind of a kid practical joke.”

“Kids don’t joke like this,” says President James. “Come in, all of you. If there’s nothing to it we won’t waste a great deal of time finding it out.”

So in we went, and there were six men sitting around a table, looking sour and impatient, and every one of them gave us a scowl as we came in. Wiggamore came along.

“Gentlemen,” says President James, “here are four boys from Wicksville—and Mr. Wiggamore. Maybe between them we can get some satisfactory idea of what is happening there.”

“What have a crowd of kids to do with it?” said a fat man.

“I’m sure I don’t know. Best way to find out is to ask ’em,” says President James. “What are you here for, boys?”

“To fight,” says Mark, just like that.

“Fight, eh? What for?”

“First for the p-p-principle of the thing, and then for our rights,” says Mark.

“What principle, son?”

“Decent b-b-business,” says Mark.

“Um!... Decent business! What’s your name, young man? And why do you mention a principle ahead of your rights?”

“My name’s Mark Tidd—Marcus Aurelius Fortunatus Tidd, and these f-f-fellers are Tallow Martin, Plunk Smalley, and Binney Jenks. We put p-p-principle first because it looks to us like it was consid’able more important to see everything in the world done squar............