JT r 
 
 
 SMITHS 
 
 PACIFIC 
 
 BKACH. OALIF
 
 THE COLOSSUS 
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 BY 
 
 OPIE READ 
 
 Author of "The Carpetbagger," "Old Ebenezer, 
 
 "The Jucklins," "My Young Master," "On the 
 
 Suwanee River," "A Kentucky Colonel," 
 
 "Emmett Bonlore," "A Tennessee 
 
 Judge," "The Wives of the 
 
 Prophet," "Len Gansett," "The 
 
 Tear in the Cup and 
 
 Other Stories. 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
 IA1RD & LEE, PUBLISHED
 
 COPTEIGHT, 1893, 
 
 BY OPIE READ. 
 (All rights reserved.)
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter. PAGE. 
 
 I. LOOKING BACK AT EABLY LIFE 7 
 
 II. A SLEKPY VILLAGE AND A FUSSY OLD MAN 13 
 
 III. ALL WAS DAEKNESS 13 
 
 IV. A STBANGE REQUEST 26 
 
 V. DISSECTING A MOTIVK :?4 
 
 VI. WAITING AT THE STATION 37 
 
 VII. A MOTHER'S AFFECTION 46 
 
 VIII. THE DOMAIN OF A GREAT MERCHANT 49 
 
 IX. THE INTERVIEWEES 65 
 
 X. ROMPED WITH THE GIRL 73 
 
 XI. ACKNOWLEDGED BY SOCIETY 81 
 
 XII. A DEMOCRACY 84 
 
 XIII. BUTTING AGAINST A WALL 100 
 
 XIV. A DIFFERENT HANDWRITING 1 106 
 
 XV. TOLD HIM HER STORY Ill 
 
 XVI. AN AROUSEB OF THE SLEEPY 117 
 
 XVII. AN OLD MAN WOULD INVEST 126 
 
 XVIII. THE INVESTMENT 133 
 
 XIX. ARRESTED EVERYWHERE 136 
 
 XX. CBIED A SENSATION 148 
 
 XXI. A HELPLESS OLD WOMAN 153 
 
 XXII. ToGooNAVisiT 159 
 
 XXIII. HENRY'S INCONSISTENCY 164 
 
 XXIV. WORE A ROSE ON His COAT 168 
 
 XXV. IMPATIENTLY WAITING 177 
 
 XXVI. TOLD IT ALL 18a 
 
 XXVII. POINTS OUT HER BROTHER'S DUTY - 1 9i 
 
 XXVIII. THE VERDICT 200 
 
 XXIX. ADAYOFREST 207 
 
 XXX. A MOTHER'S REQUEST - 212 
 
 XXXI. A MOMENT OF ARROGANCE 2i9 
 
 XXXII. A MOST PECULIAR FELLOW 231 
 
 XXXIII. THE TIME WAS DRAWING NEAR 237 
 
 XXXIV. TOLD HIM A STOBY 245 
 
 XXXV. CONCLUSION.., 252 
 
 2062003
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 LOOKING BACK AT EARLY LIFE. 
 
 WHEN the slow years of youth were gone and the 
 hastening time of manhood had come, the first 
 thing that Henry DeGolyer, looking back, could call 
 from a myt kerious darkness into the dawn of memory 
 was that h 3 awoke one night in the cold arms of his 
 dead mothe \ That was in New Orleans. The boy's 
 father had aspired to put the face of man upon lasting 
 canvas, but appetite invited whisky to mix with his art, 
 and so upon dead walls he painted the trade-mark bull, 
 and in front of museums he exaggerated the distortion 
 of the human freak. 
 
 After the death of his mother, the boy was taken to 
 the Foundlings' Home, where he was scolded by women 
 and occasionally knocked down by a vagabond older 
 than himself. Here he remembered to have seen his 
 father but once. It was a Sunday when he came, years 
 after the gentle creature, holding her child in her arms, 
 had died at midnight. The painter laughed and cried 
 and begged an old woman for a drink of brandy. He 
 went away, and after an age had seemed to pass the 
 matron of the place took the boy on her lap and told
 
 8 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 him that his father was dead, and then, putting him 
 down, she added : "Run along, now, and be good." 
 
 The boy was taken by an old Italian woman. In 
 after years he could not determine the length of time 
 that he had lived in her wretched home, but with vivid 
 brightness dwelled in his memory the morning when he 
 ran away and found a free if not an easy life in the 
 newsboys' lodging-house. He sold newspapers, he 
 went to a night school, and as he grew older he picked 
 up " river items " for an afternoon newspaper. His 
 hope was that he might become a "professional jour- 
 nalist," as certain young men termed themselves; and 
 study, which in an ill-lighted room, tuned to drowsi- 
 ness by the buzzing of youthful mnmblers, might have 
 been a chafing task to one who felt not the rowel of a 
 spurring ambition, was to him a pleasure full of thrill- 
 ing promises. To him the reporter stood at the high- 
 water mark of ambition's "freshet." But when years 
 had passed and he had scrambled to that place he 
 looked down and saw that his height was not a dizzy 
 one. And instead of viewing a conquered province, he 
 . falling from above, the shadows of trials yet to be 
 endured. He worked faithfully, and at one time held 
 the place of city editor, but a change in the manage- 
 ment of the paper not only reduced him to the ranks, 
 but, as the saying went, set him on the sidewalk. 
 Then he wrote "specials." His work was bright, 
 original and strong, and was reproduced throughout 
 the country, but as it was not signed, the paper alone 
 received the credit. Year after year he lived in this 
 unsettled way reading in the public library, musing 
 at his own fireside, catching glimpses of an important 
 work which the future seemed to hold, and waiting for
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 9 
 
 the outlines of that work to become more distinct ; but 
 the months went by and the plan of the work remained 
 in the shadow of the coming years. 
 
 DeGolyer had now reached that time of life when a 
 wise man begins strongly to suspect that the past is but 
 a future stripped of its delusions. He was a man of 
 more than ordinary appearance ; indeed, people who 
 knew him, and who believed that size grants the same 
 advantages to all vocations, wondered why he was not 
 more successful. He was tall and strong, and in his 
 bearing there was an ease which, to one who recognizes 
 not a sleeping nerve force, would have suggested the 
 idea of laziness. His complexion was rather dark, his 
 eyes were black, and his hair was a dark brown. He 
 was not handsome, but his sad face was impressive, and 
 his smile, a mere melancholy recognition that some- 
 thing had been said, did not soon fade from memory. 
 
 One afternoon DeGolyer called at the office of a 
 morning newspaper, and was told that the managing 
 editor wanted to see him. When he was shown in he 
 found an aspiring politician laughing with forced 
 heartiness at something which the editor had said. To 
 the Southern politician the humor of an influential 
 editor is full of a delicious mellowness. 
 
 When the politician went out the editor invited 
 PeGoh-er to take a seat. "Mr. DeGolyer, a number of 
 your sketches have been well received." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; they have made me a few encouraging 
 enemies." 
 
 The editor smiled. "And you regard enemies as an 
 encouragement, eh ? " 
 
 " Yes, as a proof of success. Our friends mark out 
 a course for us, and if we depart from it and do some-
 
 10 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 thing better than their specifications call for, they 
 become our enemies. " 
 
 "I don't know but you are right." After a short 
 silence the editor continued : " Mr. DeGolyer, we 
 have been thinking of sending a man down into 
 Costa Rica. Our merchants believe that if we were to 
 pay more attention to that country we might thereby 
 improve our trade. What we want is a number of let- 
 ters intended to familiarize us with those people want 
 to show, yon understand, that we are interested in 
 them." 
 
 They talked during an hour. The next day DeGolyer 
 \v;us on board a steamer boi;nd for Pnnta Arenas. On the 
 vessel he met a young man who said that his name was 
 Henry Sawyer ; and this young man was so blithe and 
 light-hearted that DeGolyer, yielding to the persuasion 
 of contrast, was drawn toward him. Young Sawyer 
 was accompanied by his uncle, a short, fat, and at times 
 a crusty old fellow. DeGolyer did not think that the 
 uncle was wholly sound of mind. One evening, just 
 before reaching port, and while the two young men 
 were standing on deck, looking landward, young Saw- 
 yer said : 
 
 " Do you know, I think more of you than of any fel- 
 low I ever met ? " 
 
 "I don't know it," DeGolyer answered, "but I am 
 tempted to hope so." 
 
 "Good. I do, and that's a fact. Yon see, I've led a 
 most peculiar sort of life. I never had any home 
 that is, any real home. I don't remember a thing about 
 my father and mother. They died when I was very 
 young, and then my uncle took me. Uncle never mar- 
 ried and never was particularly attached to any one
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 11 
 
 place. We have traveled a good deal ; have lived quite 
 a while in New Orleans, but for the past two years we 
 have lived in a little bit of a place called Ulmata, in 
 central Costa Rica. Uncle's got an interest in some 
 mines not far from there. Say, why wouldn't it be a 
 good idea for you to go to TJlmata and write your let- 
 ters from there ? Ain't any railroad, but there's a mule 
 line running to the coast. How does it strike you ?" 
 
 " I'd like to, but I'm afraid that it would take my 
 letters too long to reach New Orleans ; still, I don't 
 know what difference that would make, as I'm not go- 
 ing to write news. After all," he added, as though he 
 were arguing with himself, " I should think that the 
 interior is more interesting than the coast, for people 
 don't hang their characteristics over the coast line." 
 
 "There, you've hit the nail the very first lick. You 
 go out there with us, and I'll bet we have a magnifi- 
 cent time." 
 
 "But your uncle might object." 
 
 " How can he ? It ain't any of his business where 
 you go." 
 
 "Of course not." 
 
 " Well, then, that settles it. But really, he'd like to 
 have you. You'll like him ; little peculiar at times, 
 but you'll find him all right. You'll get a good deal of 
 money for those letters, won't you ? " 
 
 " No ; a hired man on a newspaper doesn't get much 
 money." 
 
 " But it must take a good deal of brains to do your 
 work." 
 
 " Presumably, but there stands a long row of brains 
 ready to take the engagement to take it, in fact, at a 
 cut rate. The market is full of brains."
 
 12 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 " How old did yon say you were ? " 
 
 "I am nearly thirty," DeGolyer answered. 
 
 "I'm only twenty-five, but that don't make any dif- 
 ference ; we'll have a splendid time all the same. You 
 read a good deal, I notice. Uncle's got a whole raft of 
 books, and you can read to me when you get tired of 
 reading to yourself. I've gone to school a good deal, 
 but I'm not much of a hand with a book ; but I tell you 
 what I believe I believe I could run a business to the 
 queen's taste if I had a chance, and I'm going to try it 
 one of these days. Uncle tells me that after awhile I 
 may be worth some money, and if I am I'll get rich as 
 sure as you're born. Business was born in me, but I've 
 never had a chance to do anything. I have traded 
 around a little, and I've made some money, too, but the 
 trouble is that I've never been settled down long enough 
 to do much of anything. I've scarcely any chance 
 at all out at Ulmata. What would you rather be than 
 anything else ? " 
 
 "I don't know. It doesn't seem that nature has 
 exerted herself in fitting me for anything, and I am a 
 strong believer in natural fitness. We may learn to do a 
 thing in an average sort of way, but excellence requires 
 instinct, and instinct, of course, can't be learned. " 
 
 " I guess that's so. I can see hundreds of ways to 
 make money. I'd rather be a big merchant than any- 
 thing else. Old fellow," he suddenly broke off, "I am 
 as happy as can be to have yon go out yonder with us ; 
 and mark what I tell you we're going to have a splen- 
 did time."
 
 CHAPTEK II. 
 
 A SLEEPY VILLAGE AND A FUSSY OLD MAN. 
 
 IN the village of Ulmata there was just enough of life 
 to picture the dreamy indolence of man. Best 
 was its complexion, and freedom from all marks of care 
 its most pleasing aspect. 
 
 Old Sawyer was so demonstrably gratified to have a 
 companion for his nephew that he invited DeGolyer to 
 take a room in his house, and DeGolyer gratefully 
 accepted this kindness. Young Sawyer was delighted 
 Avhen the household had thus been arranged, and with 
 many small confidences and unstudied graces of boyish 
 friendship, he kept his guest in the refreshing atmos- 
 phere of welcome. And in the main the uncle was 
 agreeable and courteous, but there were times when he 
 flew out of his orbit of goodfellowship. 
 
 Once he came puffing into the room where DeGolyer 
 was writing, and blusteringly flounced upon a sofa. 
 He remained quiet for a few moments, and then he 
 blew so strong a spout of annoyance that DeGolyer 
 turned to him and asked : 
 
 " Has anything gone wrong ? " 
 
 The old fellow's eyes bulged out as if he were straining 
 under a heavy load. "Yes," he puffed, "the devil's 
 gone wrong." 
 
 " But isn't that of ancient date ? " DeGolyer asked. 
 
 " Here, now, young fellow, don't try to saw me ! " 
 13
 
 14 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 And then he broke off with this execration : " Oh, this 
 miserable world this infernal pot where men are 
 boiled ! " He rolled his eyes like a choking ox, and 
 after a short silence, asked : " Young fellow, do you 
 know what I'd do if ^ were of your age ? " 
 
 " If you were of my temperament as well as of my age 
 I don't think you'd do much of an} T thing." 
 
 " Yes, I would ; I would confer a degree of high 
 favor on myself. I would cut my throat, sir." 
 
 "Pardon me, but is it too late at your time of life?" 
 
 " Yes, for my nerve is diseased and I am a coward, 
 an infamous, doddering old coward, sir. Good God ! to 
 live for years in darkness, bumping against the sharp 
 corners of conscience. I have never told Henry, but I 
 don't mind telling you that at times I am almost mad. 
 For years I have sought to read myself out of it, but to 
 an unsettled mind a book is a sly poison the greatest 
 of books are but the records of trouble. Don't you say 
 a word to Henry. He thinks that my mind is as sound 
 as a new acorn, but it isn't." 
 
 " I won't but, by the way, he is young ; why don't 
 you advise him to kill himself ? " 
 
 The old fellow flounced off the sofa and stood bulg- 
 ing his eyes at DeGolyer. 
 
 "Don't you ever say such a thing as that again!" he 
 snorted. " Why, confound your hide ! would you have 
 that boy dead?" 
 
 DeGolyer threw down his pen. " No, I would have 
 him live forever in his thoughtless and beautiful para- 
 dise ; I would not pull him down to the thoughtful 
 man's hell of self-communion." 
 
 " Look here, young man, you must have a history. " 
 
 "No, simply an ill-written essay."
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 15 
 
 "Who was your father? " 
 
 "A fool." 
 
 "Ah, I grant you. And who was your mother?" 
 
 "An angel." 
 
 "No, sir, she I beg your pardon," the old man 
 quickly added. "You are sensitive, sir." 
 
 DeGolyer, sadly smiling, replied: "He who suffered 
 in childhood, and who in after life has walked hand in 
 hand with disappointment, and is then not sensitive, is 
 a brute." 
 
 " How well do I know the truth of that ! DeGolyer, 
 I have been acquainted with you but a short time, but 
 you appeal to me strongly, sir. And I could almost 
 tell you something, but it is something that I ought to 
 keep to myself. I could make you despise me and then 
 offer me your regard as a compromise. Oh, that 
 American republic of ours, fought for by men who 
 scorned the romance of kingly courts, is not so com- 
 monplace a country after all. Many strange things 
 happen there, and some of them are desperately foul. 
 Is that Henry coming ? Hush." 
 
 The young man bounded into the room. " Say," he 
 cried, " I've bargained for six of the biggest monkeys 
 you ever saw. That old fellow " 
 
 "Henry," the uncle interrupted, taking up a hat and 
 fanning his purplish face, " you are getting too old for 
 that sort of foolishness. You are a man, you must 
 remember, and it may not be long until you'll be called 
 upon to exercise the judgment of a man." 
 
 " Oh, I was going to buy the monkeys and sell them 
 again for three times as much as I gave for them, but 
 you bet that when I'm called on to exarcise the judg- 
 ment of a man I'll be there. And do you think that
 
 16 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 I'd fool with mines or anything else in this country? 
 I wouldn't. I'd go to some American city and make 
 money. Say, DeGolyer, when are you going to start 
 off on that jaunt ? " 
 
 " What jaunt ? " the old man asked. 
 
 "I am going to make a tour of the country," De 
 Golyer answered. "I'm going to visit nearly every 
 community of interest and gather material for my 
 letters, and shall be gone a month or so, I should 
 think." 
 
 "And I'm going with him," said Henry. 
 
 "No," the old man replied, "you are not going to 
 leave me here all that time alone. I'm old, and I want 
 you near me." 
 
 "All right, uncle; whatever you say goes." 
 
 When DeGolyer mounted a mule and set out on his 
 journey, young Sawyer, as if clinging to his friendship, 
 walked beside him for some distance into the country. 
 
 "Well, I'd better turn back here," said the young 
 man, halting. "Say, Hank, don't stay away any 
 longer than you can help. It's devilish lonesome here, 
 you know." 
 
 "I won't, my boy." 
 
 " All right. And say, if you can't do the thing up as 
 well as you want to, throw up the job and come back 
 here, for I'll turn loose, the first thing you know, and 
 make enough money for both of us." 
 
 " God bless you, I hope that you may always make 
 enough for yourself." 
 
 " And you bet I will, and for you, too. I hate like 
 the mischief to see you go away. Couldn't think any 
 more of you if we were twin brothers. And you think 
 a good deal of me, too, don't you. Hank ? "
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 17 
 
 "My boy," said DeGolyer, leaning over and placing 
 his hand on the young fellow's shoulder, " I have never 
 speculated with my friendship, and I don't know how 
 valuable it is, but all of it that is worth having is yours. 
 You make friends everywhere ; I don't. You have 
 nothing to conceal, and I have nothing to make known. 
 To tell you the truth, you are the only real friend I 
 ever had." 
 
 " Look out, now. That sort of talk knocks me ; but 
 say, don't be away any longer than you can help." 
 
 " I won't ! " He rode a short distance, turned in his 
 saddle, waved his hand and cried : " God bless you, my 
 boy."
 
 CHAPTEE in. . 
 
 ALL WAS DARKNESS. 
 
 DELAYS and difficulties of traveling, together with 
 his own determination to do the work thoroughly, 
 prolonged DeGolyer's absence. Nearly three months 
 had passed. Evening was come, and from a distant hill- 
 top the returning traveler saw the steeple of Ulmata's 
 church a black mark on the fading blush of linger- 
 ing twilight. A chilly darkness crept out of the valley. 
 Hungry dogs barked in the dreary village. DeGolyer 
 could see but a single light. It burned in the priest's 
 house a dark age, and as of yore, with all the light 
 held by the church. The weary man liberated his mule 
 on a common, where its former companions were grazing, 
 and sought the house of his friends. The house was 
 dark and the doors were fastened. He knocked, and a 
 startling echo, an audible darkness, came from the val- 
 ley. He knocked again, and a voice cried from the 
 street : 
 
 "Who's that?" 
 
 " Helloa, is that you, my boy ? " 
 
 There was no answer, but a figure rushed through the 
 darkness, seized DeGolyer, and in a hoarse whisper 
 said : 
 
 " Come where there's a light." 
 
 " Why, what's the matter, Henry ? " 
 
 "Come where there's a light." 
 
 18
 
 TEE COLOSSUS. 19 
 
 DeGolyer followed him to a wretched place that bore 
 une name of a public-house, and went with him into a 
 room. A lamp sputtered on a shelf. Young Sawyer 
 caught DeGolyer's hands. 
 
 " I have waited so long for you to come back to this 
 dreadful place. I am all alone. Uncle is dead." 
 
 DeGolyer sat down without saying a word. He sat 
 in silence, and then he asked : 
 
 " When did he die ? " 
 
 "About two weeks after you left." 
 
 "Did he kill himself?" 
 
 " Good God, no ! Why did you think that ? " 
 
 "Oh, I didn't really think it don't know why I 
 said it." 
 
 " He was sick only a few days, and the strangest thing 
 has come to light ! He seemed to know before he was 
 taken sick that he was going to die, and he spent nearly 
 a whole day in writing writing something for me 
 and the strangest thing has come to light. I can hardly 
 realize it. Here it is ; read it. Don't say a word till 
 you have read every line of it. Strangest thing I ever 
 heard of." 
 
 And this is what DeGolyer read by the light of the 
 sputtering lamp : 
 
 "Years ago there lived in Salem, Mass., two brothers, 
 George and Andrew Witherspoon. Their parents had 
 passed away when the boys were quite young, but the 
 youngsters had managed to get a fair start in life. 
 Without ado let me say that I am Andrew Witherspoon. 
 My brother and I were of different temperaments. He 
 had graces of mind, but was essentially a business man. 
 I prided myself that I was born to be a thinker. I wor- 
 shiped Emerson. I know now that a man who would 
 willingly become a thinker is a fool. When I was
 
 20 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 twenty-three and George nearly twenty-one I fell 
 in love with Caroline Springer. There was just enough 
 of poetry in my nature to throw me into a devotion that 
 was almost wild in its intensity, and after my first meet- 
 ing with her I knew no peace. The chill of fear and 
 the fever of confidence came alternating day by day, 
 and months passed ere I had the strength of nerve to 
 declare myself ; but at last the opportunity and the 
 courage came together. I was accepted. She said that 
 if I had great love her love might be measured by my 
 own, and that if I did not think that I could love her 
 always she would go away and end her days in grief. 
 The wedding day was appointed. But when I went to 
 claim my bride she was gone gone with my brother 
 George. To-day, an old man, I look back upon that 
 time and see myself raving on the very brink of mad- 
 ness. I had known that George was acquainted with 
 Caroline Springer indeed, I had proudly introduced 
 him to her. I will tell my story, though, and not dis- 
 course. But it is hard for an old man to be straight- 
 forward. If he has read much he is discursive, and if 
 he has not read he is tedious with many words. I didn't 
 leave Salem at once. I met George, and he did not even 
 attempt to apologize for the wrong he had done me. 
 He repeated the fool saying that all is fair in love. 
 ' You ought to be glad that you discovered her lack of 
 love in time/ he said. This was consolation, surely. 
 My mind may "never have been well-balanced, and I 
 think that at this time it tilted over to one side, never 
 to tilt back. And now my love, trampled in the 
 mire, arose in the form of an evil determination. 
 I would do my brother and his wife an injury that 
 could not be repaired. I did not wish them dead ; 
 I wanted them to live and be miserable. A year passed, 
 and a boy was born. I left my native town and went 
 west. I lived there nearly three years, and then I sent 
 to a Kansas newspaper an account of my death. It was 
 printed, and I sent my brother a marked copy of the 
 paper. Two weeks later I was in Salem. I wore a 
 beard, kept myself close, and no one recognized me.
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 21 
 
 I waited for an opportunity. It came, and I stole my 
 brother's boy. I went to Boston, to Europe, back to 
 America ; lived here and there, and you know the rest. 
 My dear boy, I repented somewhat, and it was my in- 
 tention, at some time, to restore you to your parents, 
 but you yourself were their enemy ; you crept into my 
 heart and I could not pluck you out. For a time the 
 story of your mysterious disappearance filled the news- 
 papers. You were found in a hundred towns, year 
 after year, and when your sensation had run its course, 
 you became the joke of the paragraphers. It was no 
 longer, ' Who struck Billy Patterson ? ' but ' Who 
 stole Henry Witherspoon ? ' Once I saw your father in 
 New Orleans. He had come to identify his boy ; but 
 he went away with another consignment added to his 
 large stock of disappointment. Finally all hope was 
 apparently abandoned and even the newspapers ceased 
 to find you. 
 
 "Your father and mother now live in Chicago. 
 George Witherspoon is one of the great merchants of 
 that city, and is more than a millionaire. This is why 
 I have so often told you that one day you would be 
 worth money. You were young and could afford to 
 wait ; I was old, and to me the present was everything, 
 and you were the present. 
 
 " For some time I have been threatened with sudden 
 death ; I have felt it at night when you were asleep ; 
 and now I have written a confession which for years I 
 irresolutely put aside from day to day. I charge you 
 to bury me as Andrew Witherspoon, for in the grave I 
 hope to be myself, with nothing to hide. Write at 
 once to your father, and after settling up my affairs, 
 which I urge you not to neglect, you can go to him. In 
 the commercial world a high place awarts you, and 
 though I have done you a great wrong, I hope that your 
 recollection of my deep love for you may soften your 
 resentment and attune your young heart to the sweet 
 melody <*t forgiveness. 
 
 "ANDREW WITHERSPOON. "
 
 22 . THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 DeGolyer folded the paper, returned it to Henry and 
 sat in silence. He looked at the smoking lamp and lis- 
 tened to the barking of the hungry dogs. 
 
 "What do you think, Hank ?" 
 
 "I don't know what to think." 
 
 " But ain't it the strangest thing you ever heard of ? " 
 
 " Yes, it is strange, and yet not so strange to me. It 
 is simply the sequel to a well-known story. In the 
 streets of New Orleans, years ago, when I could scarcely 
 carry a bundle of newspapers, I cried your name. The 
 story was getting old then, for I remember that the 
 people paid but little attention to it. " 
 
 They sat for a time in silence. Young Witherspoon 
 epoke, but DeGolyer did not answer him. They heard 
 a guitar and a Spanish love song. 
 
 "Yes, it is strange," said DeGolyer, coming back 
 from a wandering reverie. " It is strange that I should 
 be here with you ; " and under a quickening of his 
 newspaper instincts, he added, "and I shall have the 
 writing of it. " 
 
 " But wait awhile before yon let your mind run off 
 on that, Hank. I don't want to be described and talked 
 about so much. I know it can't be kept out of the 
 papers, but we'll discuss that after a while. Now, let 
 me tell you what I've done. I wrote to to father 
 don't that sound strange ? I wrote to him and sent 
 him a copy of uncle's paper I would have sent the. 
 original, but I wanted to show that to you. I also 
 sent a note that mother there it is again wrote to 
 uncle a long time ago, and a lock of hair and some 
 other little tricks. I told him to write to me, and 
 here's his letter. It came nearly four weeks ago. And
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 23 
 
 think, Hank, Pve got a sister grown and handsome, 
 too, I'll bet." 
 
 Ecstasy had almost made the letter incoherent. It 
 was written first by one and then another hand, with 
 frequent interchanges ; and DeGolyer, who fancied that 
 he could pick character out of the marks of a pen, 
 thought that a mother's heart had overflowed and that 
 a hard, commercial hand had cramped itself to a strange 
 employment the expression of affection. The father 
 deplored the fact that his son could not be reached by 
 telegraph, and still more did he lament his inability, 
 on account of urgent business demands, to come him- 
 self instead of sending a letter. " Admit of no delay, 
 but set out for home at once," the father commanded. 
 " Telegraph as soon as yon can, and your mother and I 
 will meet you in New Orleans. I hope that this may 
 not be exploited in the newspapers. God knows that in 
 9iir time we have had enough of newspaper notoriety. 
 Say nothing to any one, but come at once, and we can 
 give for publication such a statement as we think 
 necessary. Of course your discovery, as a sequel to 
 your abduction years ago and the tremendous interest 
 aroused at the time, will be of national importance, 
 but I prefer that the news be sent out from this place." 
 
 Here the handwriting was changed, and "love," 
 "thank God," "darling child," and emotion blots filled 
 out the remainder of the page. 
 
 "You see," said Witherspoon, "that I have a reason 
 for depriving you of an early whack at this thing. 
 Now, I have written again and told them not to be im- 
 patient, and that I would leave here as soon as possible. 
 T have settled up everything here, but I've got to go to
 
 24 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 a little place away over on the coast and close out some 
 mining interests there." 
 
 " It must be of but trifling importance, my boy, and 
 I should think that you'd let it go." 
 
 " No, sir ; I'm going to do my duty by that dear old 
 man if I never do anything else while I live. " 
 
 He held not a mote of resentment. Indeed was his 
 young heart "attuned to the sweet melody of forgive- 
 ness." 
 
 "By the way, Hank, here's a letter for you." 
 
 The communication was brief. It was from New 
 Orleans and ran thus : " The five letters which we 
 have published have awakened no interest whatever, 
 and I am therefore instructed to discontinue the serv- 
 ice. Inclosed please find check for the amount due 
 you." 
 
 "What is it, Hank?" 
 
 "Oh, nothing except what I might have expected. 
 Read it." 
 
 Witherspoon read the letter, and crumpling it, broke 
 out in his impuLsiv2 way : "That's all right, old fellow. 
 It. fits right into my plan, and now let me tell you what 
 that is. We'll leave here to-morrow and go over to 
 Dura and settle up there. I don't know how long it 
 will take, and I won't try to telegraph until we get 
 through. Dura isn't known as a harbor, it is such a 
 miserably small place, but ships- land there once in 
 awhile, and we can sail from there. But the main part 
 of my plan is that you are to go with me and live in 
 Chicago ; and I'll bet we have a magnificent time. I'll 
 go in the store, and I'll warrant that father don't that 
 sound strange ? that father can get you a good place 
 on one of the newspapers. You haven't had a chance,
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 25 
 
 Hank, and when you do get one, I'll bet yon can lay 
 but the best of them. What do you say ? " 
 
 / / 
 
 "Henry," said the dark-visaged DeGolyer and the 
 light of affection beamed in his eyes "Henry, you are 
 a positive charm ; and if I should meet a girl adorned 
 with a disposition like yours, I would unstring my 
 heart, hand it to her and say, ' Here, miss, this belongs 
 to you/" 
 
 " Oh, you may find one. I've got a sister, you know. 
 What ! are you trying to look embarrassed ? Do you 
 know what Fin going to say ? I'm going to lead you 
 up to my sister and say, ' Here, I have caught you a 
 prince ; take him/ " 
 
 "Nonsense, my boy." 
 
 " That's all right ; but, seriously, will you go with 
 me?" 
 
 "I will." 
 
 " Good. We'll get ready to-night and start early in 
 the morning. But I mustn't forget to see the priest 
 again. ' He was a friend when I needed one ; he took 
 charge of uncle's burial. But," he suddenly broke off 
 with rising spirits, " won't we have a time ? Million- 
 aire, eh ? I'll learn that business and make it worth 
 ten millions."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A STRANGE REQUEST. 
 
 THE next morning, before it was well light, and at a 
 time when brisk youth and slow age were seeking 
 the place of confession, Henry Witherspoon went to the 
 priest, not to acknowledge a sin, but to avow a deep 
 gratitude. The journey was begun early; it was in 
 July. The morning was braced with a cool breeze, the 
 day was cloudless, and night's lingering gleam of 
 silver melted in the gold of morn. Young Wither- 
 spoon's impressive nature was up with joy or down with 
 sadness. The prospect of his new life was a happiness, 
 and the necessity to leave his old v uncle in a foreign 
 country was a sore regret; so happiness and regret 
 strove against each other, but happiness, advantaged 
 with a buoyant heart as a contest-ground, soon ended 
 the struggle. 
 
 On a brown hill-top they met the sunrise, and from a 
 drowsy roosting- place they flushed a flock of greenish 
 birds. Witherspoon stood in his stirrups and waved 
 his hat. "Good-by," he cried, " but you needn't have 
 got up so soon. "\Ye didn't want you. Hank," he said, 
 turning sideways in his saddle, "I think we can get 
 there in about five days, at the pace we'll be compelled 
 to go ; and we can sell these mules or give them away, 
 just as we like. Going home ! I can't get the strange- 
 ness of it out of my head. And a sister, too, mind you.
 
 TEE COLOSSUS. 27 
 
 Fm beginning to feel like a man now. Yon see, nncle 
 wanted me to be a boy as long as I could, and it was 
 only of late that he began to tell me that I mnst put 
 aside foolishness ; but I am beginning to feel like a man 
 now." 
 
 "You will need to feel like one when you take up 
 your new responsibilities. You are playing now, but it 
 may be serious enough after a while." 
 
 " What ! Don't preach, Hank. Responsibilities ! 
 Why, I'll throw them over my shoulder like a twine 
 string. But let me tell you something. There's one 
 thing I'm not going to allow they shan't say a word 
 against that old man. Oh, I know the trouble and 
 grief he brought about, but by gracious, he had a cause. 
 If if mother didn't love him, why did she say that 
 if he didn't love her she would go away somewhere and 
 grieve herself to death ? That was no way to treat a 
 fellow, especially a fellow that loves you like the 
 mischief. And besides, why did father cut him out ? 
 Pretty mean thing for a man to slip around and 
 steal his brother's sweetheart. In this country it would 
 mean blood." 
 
 ''You are a jewel, my boy." 
 
 " No, I'm simply just. Of course, two wrongs don't 
 make a right, as the saying has it, but a wrong with a 
 cause is half-way right, and I'll tell them at the very 
 start that they better not talk about the matter. In 
 fact, I told them so in the letter. You've had a pretty 
 hard time of it, haven't you, Hank ? " 
 
 " I shouldn't want an enemy's dog to have a harder 
 one," DeGolyer answered. 
 
 "But you've got a good education." 
 
 " So has the hog that picks up cards and tells the
 
 28 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 time of day," said DeGolyer, "but what good does that 
 do him ? He has to work harder than other hogs, and 
 is kept hungry so that he may perform with more 
 sprightliness. But if I have a good education, my boy, 
 I stole it, and I shouldn't be surprised at any time to 
 meet an officer with a warrant of arrest sworn out 
 against me by society." 
 
 " Good ; but you didn't steal trash at any rate. But, 
 Hank, you look for the dark when the light would serve 
 you better. Don't do it. Throw off your trouble." 
 
 "Oh, I'm not disposed to look so much for the dark 
 as you may imagine. Throw it off ! That's good advice. 
 It is true that we may sometimes throw off a trouble, 
 but we can't very well throw off a cause. Some natures 
 are like a piece of fly-paper a sorrow alights and sticks 
 there. But that isn't my nature. It doesn't take much 
 to make me contented." 
 
 The weather remained pleasant, and the travelers 
 were within a day's ride of Dura, when Witherspoon 
 complained one morning of feeling ill, and by noon he 
 could scarcely sit in his saddle. 
 
 "Let us stop somewhere," DeGolyer urged. 
 
 "No," Witherspoon answered, "let us get to Dura as 
 soon as we can. I've got a fever, haven't I ? " 
 
 DeGolyer leaned over and placed his hand on Wither- 
 spoon's forehead. "Yes, you have." 
 
 " The truth is, I haven't felt altogether right since 
 the first day after we started, but I thought it would 
 wear off." 
 
 When they reached Dura, Witherspoon was deliri- 
 ous. Not a ship was in port, and DeGolyer took him 
 to an inn and summoned such medical aid as the hamlet 
 alforded. The physician naturally gave the case a
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 29 
 
 threatening color, and it followed that he was right, 
 for at the close of the fourth day the patient gave no 
 promise of improvement. The innkeeper said that 
 sometimes a month passed between the landing of ships 
 at that point. The fifth day came. DeGolyer sat by 
 the bedside of his friend, fanning him. The doctor 
 had called and had just taken his leave. 
 
 "Give me some water, Hank." 
 
 "Ah, you are coming around all right, my boy," De- 
 Golyer cried. He brought the water; and when the 
 patient drank and shook his head as a signal to take 
 away the cup, DeGolyer asked: "Don't you feel a good 
 deal better?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "But your mind is clear?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Shall I put another cold cloth on your head?" 
 
 " If you please. " 
 
 And wiien DeGolyer had gently done this, Wither- 
 spoon said: "Sit down here, Hank." 
 
 "All right, my boy, here I am." 
 
 "Hank, I'm not going to get well." 
 
 " Oh, yes, you are, and don't you let any such non- 
 sense enter your head." 
 
 " It's a good ways from nonsense, I tell you. I know 
 what I'm talking about; I know just as well as can be 
 that I'm going to die now you wait till I get through. 
 It caa't be helped, and there's no use in taking on over 
 it. I did want to see my father and mother and sister, 
 but it can't be helped." 
 
 DeGolyer was on his knees beside the bed. He at- 
 tempted to speak, but his utterance was choked. ; and
 
 30 TEE COLOSSUS. 
 
 the tears in his eyes blurred to spectral dimness the only 
 human being whom he held warm in his heart. 
 
 " Hank, while I am able to talk Fve got a great favor 
 to ask of you. And you'll grant it, won't you ? " 
 
 "Yes," DeGolyer sobbed. 
 
 For a few moments the sick man lay in silence. He 
 fumbled about and found DeGolyer's hand. "My 
 father and mother are waiting for me," he said. " They 
 have been raised into a new life. If I never come it 
 will be worse than if I had never been found, for they'll 
 have a new grief to bear, and it may be heavier than 
 the first. They must have a son, Hank. " 
 
 "My dear boy, what do you mean? " 
 
 " I mean that if I die and I know that I am going 
 to die you must be their son. You must go there, 
 not as Henry DeGolyer, but as Henry TYitherspoon, 
 their own son." 
 
 " Merciful God ! I can't do that. " 
 
 "But if you care for me you will. Take all my 
 papers take everything I've got and go home. It will 
 be the greatest favor you could do me and the greatest 
 you could do them." 
 
 " But, my dear boy, I should be a liar and a hypo- 
 crite." 
 
 " No, you would be playing my part because I couldn't 
 play it. Once you said that you would give me 
 your life if I wanted it, and now I want it. You can 
 make them happy, and they'll be so proud of you. 
 Won't you try it ? I would do anything on earth for 
 you, and now you deny me this and who knows but 
 my spirit might enter into you and form a part of 
 your own? How can you refuse me when you know that
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 31 
 
 I think more of you than I do of anybody ? This is no 
 boy's prank Fm a man now. Will you ?" 
 
 "Henry," said DeGolyer, "this is merely a feverish 
 notion that has come out of your derangement. Put, it 
 by, and after a while we will laugh at it. Is the cloth 
 hot again ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I'll change it." And DeGolyer, removing the cloth 
 and placing hi's hand on his friend's forehead, added: 
 "Your fever isn't so high as it was yesterday. You 
 are coming out all right." 
 
 " No, I tell you that I'm going to die ; and you won't 
 do me the only .favor I could ask. Don't you remem- 
 ber saying, not long ago, that a man's life is a pretense 
 almost from the beginning to the end ? " 
 
 " I don't remember saying it, but it agrees with what 
 I have often been compelled to think. " 
 
 " Well, then, if you think that life is a pretense, why 
 not pretend by request ?" 
 
 "We'll talk about it some other time, my boy." 
 " But there may not be any other time." 
 
 " Oh, yes, there will be. Don't you think you can 
 sleep now ? " 
 
 "No, I don't think I can sleep and wake up again." 
 
 But he did sleep, and he did awake again. Three 
 more days passed wearily away, and the patient was 
 delirious most of the time. DeGolyer's acquaintance 
 with Spanish was but small, and he could comprehend 
 but little of what a pedantic doctor might say, yet he 
 learned that there was not much encouragement to be 
 drawn from the fact that the sick man's mind some- 
 times returned from its troubled wandering. 
 
 DeGolyer was again alone wifti his friend. It w*s a
 
 32 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 hot though a blustery afternoon, and the sea, in sight 
 through the open door, sounded the deeper notes of its 
 endless opera. 
 
 "Hank." 
 
 "I'm here, my boy." 
 
 "Have you thought about what I told you to do ? " 
 
 "Are you still clinging to that notion ?" 
 
 "No ; it is clinging to me. Have you thought about 
 it?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And. what did you think ?" 
 
 " I thought that for you I would take the risk of play- 
 ing a part that you are unable to perform. But really, 
 Henry, I'm too old." 
 
 " You have promised, and my mind is at ease," the 
 sick man said, with a smile. " Now I feel that I have 
 given my life over to you and that I shall not really be 
 dead so long as you are alive. Among my things you 
 will find some letters written by my mother to my uncle, 
 and a small gold chain and a locket that I wore when I 
 was sto when uncle took me. That's all." 
 
 "I will do the best I can, but I'm too old." 
 
 " You are only a few years older than I am. They'll 
 never know. They'll be blind. You'll have the proof. 
 Go at once. You are Henry Witherspoon. That's 
 all." 
 
 The blustery afternoon settled into a calm as the sun 
 went down, and a change came with the night. The 
 sufferer's mind flitted back for a moment, and in that 
 speck of time he spoke not, but he gave his friend a 
 look of gratitude. All was over. During the night 
 DeGolyer eat alone by the bedside. And a ship came at 
 morning.
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 33 
 
 A kind-hearted priest offered his services. "The 
 ship has merely dodged in here," said he, "and won't 
 stay long, and it may be a month before another one 
 comes." And then he added.: "You may leave these 
 melancholy rites to me." 
 
 A man stepped into the doorway and cried in Spanish: 
 "The ship is ready." 
 
 DeGolyer turned to the priest, and placing a purse 
 on the table, said: "I thank you." Then he stepped 
 lightly to the bedside and gazed with reverence and 
 affection upon the face of the dead bo} r . He spoke the 
 name of Christ, and the priest heard him say : " Take 
 his spirit to Thy love raid Thy mercy, for no soul more 
 forgiving has ever entered Thy Father's kingdom." He 
 took up his traveling-bag and turned toward the door. 
 "One moment," said the priest, and pointing to the 
 couch, he asked : " What name ? " 
 
 " Henry Henry DeGolyer. "
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 DISSECTING A MOTIVE. 
 
 ONWARD went the ship, nodding to the beck and call 
 of mighty ocean. DeGolyer or, rather, Henry 
 Witherspoon, as now he knew himself walked up and 
 dewn the deck. And it seemed that at every turn his 
 searching grief had found a new abiding-place for sor- 
 row. His first strong attachment was broken, and he 
 felt that in the years to come, no matter what fortune 
 they might bring him, there could not grow a friend- 
 ship large enough to fill the place made vacant by his 
 present loss. An absorbing love might come, but love 
 is by turns a sweet and anxious selfishness, while 
 friendship is a broad-spread generosity. Suddenly he 
 was struck by the serious meaning of his obligation, 
 and with stern vivisection he laid bare the very nerves 
 of his motive. At first he could find nothing save the 
 discharge of a sacred duty ; but what if this trust had 
 entailed a life of toil and sacrifice ? Would he have 
 accepted it ? In his agreement to this odd compact 
 was there not an atom of self-interest ? Over and over 
 again he asked himself these questions, and he strove 
 to answer them to the honor of his incentive, but he 
 felt that in this strife there lay a prejudice, a hope 
 that self might be cleared of all dishonor. But was 
 there ever a man who, in the very finest detail, lived a 
 life of perfect truth and freedom from all selfishness ? 
 
 34
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 35 
 
 If so, "why should Providence have put him in a grasp- 
 ing world ? Give conscience time and it will find an 
 easy bed, and yet the softest bed may have grown hard 
 ere morning comes. 
 
 " Who am I that I should carp with myself ? " the 
 traveler mused. " Have the world and its litter of pups 
 done anything for me ? " He walked up and down the 
 deck. " God knows that I shall always love the memory 
 of that dear boy. But if all things are foreseen and are 
 still for the best, why should he have died ? Was it to 
 throw upon me this great opportunity ? But who am 
 I ? And why should a special opportunity be wrought 
 for me ? But who is anybody ? " 
 
 Going whither ? Home. A father and he thought 
 of a drunken painter. A mother and his mind flew 
 back to a midnight when arms that had carried him 
 warm with life were cold in death. A millionaire's 
 eon that thought startled him. What were the 
 peculiar duties of a millionaire's son ? No maiter. 
 They might impose a strain, but they could never be so 
 trying as constant poverty. But who had afflicted him 
 with poverty ? First his birth and then his tempera- 
 ment. But who gave him the temperament ? He 
 wheeled about and walked away as if he would be rid 
 of an impertinent questioner. 
 
 When the ship reached New Orleans he went straight- 
 way to the telegraph office and sent this message to 
 George Witherspoon : "Will leave for Chicago to-day." 
 * And now his step was beyond recall ; he must go for- 
 ward. But conscience had no needles, and his mind 
 was at rest. In expectancy there \vas a keen fascina^ 
 tion. He met a reporter whom he knew, but 
 there was no sign of recognition. A beard, thick,
 
 36 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 black and neatly trimmed, gave Henry^s face an \> - 
 familiar mold. But he felt a momentary fear , he 
 realized that a possible danger thenceforth would lie in 
 wait for him, and then came the easing assurance that 
 his early life, his father and his mother, were remem- 
 bered by no one of importance, and that even if he were 
 recognized as Henry DeGolyer, he could still declare 
 himself the stolen son of George Witherspoon. Indeed, 
 with safety he cculd thus announce himself to the man- 
 aging editor who had sent him to Costa Eica, and he 
 thought of doing this, but no, his his father wanted 
 the secret kept until the time was ripe for its divulg- 
 ence. He went into a restaurant, and for the first time 
 in his life he felt himself free to order regardless of the 
 prices on the bill of fare. Often, when a hungry boy, 
 he had sold newspapers in that house, and enviously he 
 had watched the man who seemed to care not for ex- 
 penses. As he eat there waiting for his meal, a news- 
 boy came in, and after selling him a paper, stood near 
 the table. 
 
 "Sit down, little fellow, and have something to eat." 
 
 This was sarcasm, and the boy leered at him. 
 
 "Sit down, won't yon?" 
 
 "What are yon givin' me ? " 
 
 "This," said Henry, and he handed bin) a dollar.
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 WAITING AT THE STATION. 
 
 MEX bustling their way to the lunch counter; okl 
 women fidgeting in the fear that they had forgotten 
 something; man in blue crying the destination of out- 
 going trains; weary mothers striving to soothe their 
 fretful children ; the tumult raised by cabmen that were 
 crowding against the border-line of privilege; bells, 
 shrieks, new harshnesses here and there; confusion 
 everywhere a railway station in Chicago. 
 
 "The train ought to be here now/'' said George "\Yith- 
 erspoon, looking at his watch. 
 
 "Do you know exactly what train he is coming on?", 
 his wife asked. 
 
 "Yes ; he telegraphed again from Memphis." 
 
 "You didn't tell me you'd got another telegram." 
 
 "My dear, I thought I did. The truth is that I've 
 been so rushed and stirred up for the last day or so that 
 I've hardly known what I was about." 
 
 "And I can scarcely realize now what I'm waiting 
 for," said a young woman. "Mother, you look as if you 
 haven't slept any for a week." 
 
 "And I don't feel as if I have." 
 
 George Witherspoon, holder of the decisive note in the 
 affairs of that great department store known as "The Co- 
 lossus," may not by design have carried an air that would 
 indicate the man to whom small tradesman regarded it 
 
 37
 
 38 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 as a mark of good breeding to cringe, but even in a place 
 where his name was not known his appearance would 
 strongly have appealed to commercial confidence. That 
 instinct which in earlier life had prompted fearless spec- 
 ulation, now crystalized into conscious force, gave un- 
 conscious authority to his countenance. He was tall 
 and with so apparent a strength in his shoulders as to 
 suggest the thought that with them he had shoved his 
 way to success. He was erect and walked with a firm 
 step ; he wore a heavy grayish mustache that turned 
 under ; his chin had a forceful squareness ; he was thin- 
 haired, nearing baldness. In his manner was a sort of 
 firm affability, and his voice was of that tone which 
 success nearly always assumes, kindly, but with a sug- 
 gestion of impatience. His eyes were restless, as though 
 accustomed to keep watch over many things. When 
 spoken to it was his habit to turn quickly, and if occa- 
 sion so warranted, to listen with that pleasing though 
 frosty smile which to the initiated means, " I shall be 
 terribly bored by any request that you may make, and 
 shall therefore be compelled to refuse it." He was 
 sometimes liberal, though rarely generous. If he 
 showed that a large disaster touched his heart, he could 
 not conceal the fact that a lesser mishap simply fell 
 upon his irritated nerves ; and therefore he might con- 
 tribute to a stricken city while refusing to listen to the 
 distress of a family. 
 
 Mrs. Witherspoon waa a dark-eyed little woman. In 
 her earlier life she must have been handsome, for in the 
 expression of her face there was a reminiscence of 
 beauty. Her dimples had turned traitor to youth and 
 gossiped of coming age. Women are the first to show 
 the contempt with which wealth regards poverty, the
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 39 
 
 first to turn with resentment npon former friends who 
 have been left in the race for riches, the first to feel the 
 overbearing spirit that money stirs ; but' this woman 
 had not lost her gentleness. 
 
 The girl was about nineteen years of age. She was 
 a picture of style, delsarted to ease of motion. She 
 was good-looking and had the whims and the facial 
 tricks that are put to rhyme and raved over in a 
 sweetheart, but which are afterward deplored in a wife. 
 
 "I feel that I shan't know how to act." 
 
 Witherspoon looked at his daughter and said, 
 "Ellen." 
 
 " But, papa, I just know I shan't. How should I 
 know ? I never met a brother before ; never even 
 thought of such a thing." 
 
 " Don't be foolish. We are not the only people that 
 have been placed in such a position. No matter how 
 you may be situated, remember that you are not a 
 pioneer ; no human strain is new." 
 
 " But it's the only time / was ever placed in such a 
 position." 
 
 "Nonsense. In this life we must learn to expect 
 anything." Mrs. Witherspoon was silently weeping. 
 " Caroline, don't, please. Remember that we are not 
 alone. A trial of joy, my dear, is the easiest trial to 
 bear." 
 
 "Not always," she replied. 
 
 A counter commotion in the general tumult- the 
 train. 
 
 A crowd waited outside the iron gate. A tall young 
 man came through with the hastening throng. He 
 cought Witherspoon's wandering eye. Strangers look- 
 ing: for each other are guided by a peculiar instinct,
 
 40 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 but "Witherspoon stood questioning that instinct. The 
 mother could see nothing with distinctness. The 
 young man held up a gold chain. 
 
 It was soon over. People who were hastening toward 
 a train turned to look upon a flurry of emotion a 
 mother faint with joy; a strong man stammering words 
 of welcome; a girl seemingly thrilled with a new pre- 
 rogative ; a stranger in a nest of affection. 
 
 "Come, let us get into the carriage/' said AVither* 
 spoon. " Come, Caroline, you have behaved nobly, and 
 don't spoil it all now." 
 
 She gave her husband a quick though a meek glance 
 and took Henry's arm. When the others had seated 
 themselves in the carriage, Witherspoon stood for a 
 moment on the curb-stone. 
 
 "Drive to the Colossus," he commanded. Mrs. 
 Witherspoon put out her hand with a pleading gesture. 
 " You are not going there before you go home, are you, 
 dear ? " she asked. 
 
 f'l am compelled to go there, but I'll stay only a 
 moment or two," he answered. "I'll simply hop out 
 for a minute and leave the rest of yon in the carriage. 
 There's something on hand that needs my atten- 
 tion at once. Drive to the Colossus," he said as he 
 stepped into the carriage. A moment later he re- 
 marked : " Henry, you are different from what I 
 expected. I thought you were light." 
 
 "He is just like my mother's people," Mrs. Wither- 
 spoon spoke up. "All the Craigs were dark." 
 
 They drove on in a silence not wholly free from em- 
 barrassment. Through the carriage windows Henry 
 caught glimpses of a world of hurry. The streets, dark 
 and dangerous with traffic, stretched far awaj and
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 41 
 
 ended in a cloud of smoke. "It will take time to 
 realize all this," the young men mused, and meeting 
 the upturned eyes of Mrs. Witherspoon, who had 
 clasped her hands over his shoulder, he said : 
 
 "Mother, I hope you are not disappointed in me." 
 
 "You are just like the Craigs," she insisted. "They 
 were dark. And Uncle Louis was so dark that he 
 might have been taken for an Italian, and Uncle 
 Harvey" She hesitated and glanced at her hus- 
 band. 
 
 "What were you going to say about your Uncle 
 Harvey ? " Henry asked. 
 
 "Nothing, only he was dark just like all the Craigs." 
 
 There is a grunt which man borrowed from the goat, 
 or which, indeed, the goat may have borrowed from man. 
 And this grunt, more than could possibly be conveyed by 
 syllabic utterance, expresses impatience. Witherspoon 
 gave this goat-like grunt, and Henry knew that he had 
 heard of the Craigs until he was sick of their dark 
 complexion. He knew, also, that the great merchant 
 had not a defensive sense of humor, for humor, in the 
 exercise of its kindly though effective functions, would 
 long ago have put these Craigs to an unoffending death. 
 
 "I don't see why you turn aside to talk of com- 
 plexion when the whole situation is so odd," said 
 Ellen, speaking to her father. " I am not able to bring 
 myself down to a realization of it yet, although I have 
 been trying to ever since we got that letter from that 
 good-for-nothing country, away off yonder. You must 
 know that it strikes me differently from what it does 
 any one else. It is all romance with me pure 
 romance." 
 
 "Witherspoon said nothing, but his wife replied : "It
 
 '12 
 
 isn't romance with me ; it ig an answer to a prayer that 
 aiy heart has been beating year after year." 
 
 "But don't cry, mother," said Ellen. "Your prayer 
 has been answered." 
 
 " Yes, I know that, but look at the long, long years 
 of separation, and now he comes back to me a stranger." 
 
 "But we shall soon be well acquainted," Henry 
 replied, " and after a while you may forget the long years 
 of separation." 
 
 " I hope so, my son, or at least I hope to be able to 
 remember them without sorrow. But didn't you, at 
 times, fancy that you remembered me ? Couldn't you 
 recall my voice ? " Her lips trembled. 
 
 "No," he answered, slowly shaking his head. This 
 was the cause for more tears. She had passed com- 
 pletely out of his life. Ah, the tender, the hallowed 
 egotism of a mother's love ! 
 
 The carriage drew up to the sidewalk, and the driver 
 threw open the door. "I'll be back in just a minute," 
 said Witherspoon, as he got out ; and when he was gone 
 his wife began to apologize for him. " He's always so 
 busy. I used to think that the time might come when 
 he could have more leisure, but it hasn't." 
 
 " What an immense place ! " said Henry, looking 
 out. 
 
 "One of the very largest in the world," Ellen replied. 
 "And the loveliest silks and laces you ever saw." A 
 few moments later she said : " Here comes father." 
 
 "Drive out Michigan," Witherspoon commanded. 
 They were whirled away and had not gone far whet 
 the merchant, directing Henry's attention, said : 
 
 "The Auditorium." 
 
 "The what?"
 
 THb COLOSSUS. 48 
 
 "The Auditorium. Is it possible you never heard 
 of it?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, I remember now. It was formally opened, 
 by the President." 
 
 He did remember it ; he remembered having edited 
 telegraph for a newspaper on the night when Patti's 
 voice was first heard in this great home of music. 
 
 "Biggest theater in the world," said Witherspoon. 
 
 '* Bigger than La Scala of Milan ? " Henry asked. 
 
 " Beats anything in the world, and I remember when 
 the ground could have been bought for see that lot 
 over there ? " he broke off, pointing. " I bought that 
 once for eighty dollars a foot and sold it for a hundred." 
 
 " Pretty good sale, wasn't it ? " Henry innocently 
 asked. 
 
 " Good sale ! What do you suppose it's worth now ! " 
 
 "I have no idea." 
 
 " Three thousand a foot if it's worth a penny. There 
 never was anything like it since the world began. I'm 
 not what you might call an old-timer, but I've seen 
 some wonderful changes here. Now, this land right 
 here fifteen hundred a foot ; could have bought it 
 not so very long ago for fifty. I tell you the world 
 never saw anything like it. Why, just think of it ; 
 there are men now living who could have bought the 
 best corner in this city for a mere song. There's no 
 other town like this. Look at the buildings. When a 
 man has lived here a while he can't live in any other 
 town any other town is too slow for him and yet I 
 heard an old man say that he could have got all the 
 land he wanted here for a yoke of oxen." 
 
 "But he hadn't the oxen, eh ?" 
 
 "Of course he had," Witherspoon replied, "but who
 
 44 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 wanted to exchange useful oxen for a useless mnd-hole r 
 Beats anything in this world." 
 
 Henry looked at him in astonishment. His tongue, 
 which at first had seemed to be so tight with silence, 
 was now so loose with talk. He had dropped no hint 
 of his own importance ; he had made not the slightest 
 allusion to the energy and ability that had been 
 required to build his mammoth institution. His impress- 
 ive dignity was set aside : he was blowing his town's 
 horn. 
 
 The carriage turned into Prairie Avenue. " Look at 
 all this," Witherspoon continued, waving his hand. 
 "I remember when it didn't deserve the name of a 
 street. Look at that row of houses. Built by a man 
 that used to drive a team. There's a beauty going up. 
 Did you ever see anything like it ? " 
 
 "I can well say that I never have," Henry answered. 
 
 "I should think not," said Witherspoon, and point- 
 ing to the magnificent home of some obscure man, he 
 added: " I remember when an old shed stood there. 
 Just look at that carving in front." 
 
 ""Who lives there?" Henry asked. 
 
 "Did hear, but have forgotten. Yonder's one of 
 green stone. I don't like that so well. Here we have 
 a sort of old stone. That house looks as though it 
 might be a hundred years old, but it was put up last 
 year. "Well, here's our house." 
 
 The carriage drew up under the" porte-cocher of a 
 mansion built of cobble-stones. It was as strong as a 
 battlement, but its outlines curved in obedience to 
 gracefulness and yielded to the demand of striking 
 effect. Viewed from one point it might have been 
 taken for a castle ; from another, it suggested itself as
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 45 
 
 a spireless church. Strangers halted to gaze at it; 
 street laborers looked at it in admiration. It was showy 
 in a neighborhood of mansions. 
 
 Mrs. Witherspoon led Henry to the threshold and 
 tremulously kissed him. Amd it was with this degree 
 of welcome that the wanderer was shown into his home.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A MOTHER'S AFFECTION. 
 
 IN ONE bedazzled moment we review a whole 
 night of darkness. A luxury brings with it the 
 memory of a privation. The first glimpse of those 
 drawing-rooms, gleaming with white and warm with 
 gold, were seen against a black cloud, and that cloud 
 ,vas the past. The wanderer was startled ; there was 
 aothing now to turn aside the full shock of his respon- 
 sibilities. He felt the enormity of his pretense, and he 
 began again to pick at his motive. Mrs. Witherspoon 
 perceived a change in him and anxiously asked if he 
 were ill. No, but now that his long journey was ended 
 he felt worn by it. The father saw him with a fresh 
 criticism and said that he looked older than his years 
 bespoke him ; but the mother, quick in every defense, 
 insisted that he had gone through enough to make any 
 one look old ; and besides, the Craigs, being a thought- 
 ful people, always looked older than they really were. 
 In the years that followed, this first day " at home " was 
 reviewed in all its memories the library with its 
 busts of old thinkers and its bright array of new books ; 
 the sober breakfast-room in which luncheon was served ; 
 the orderly servants ; the plants ; the gold fishes ; the 
 heavy hangings ; a tiger skin with a life-expressive 
 head ; the portraits of American statesmen ; the rich 
 painting of a cow that flashed back the tradition of a 
 trade-mark bull on a dead wall.
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 47 
 
 Evening came with melody in the music-room ; mid- 
 night, and Henry sat alone in his room. He was heavy 
 with sadness. The feeling that henceforth his success 
 must depend upon the skill of his hypocrisy, and that 
 he must at last die a liar, lay upon him with cold 
 oppression. Kindness was a reproach and love was a 
 censure. Some one tapped at the door. 
 
 "Come in." 
 
 Mrs. Witherspoon entered. " I just wanted to see if 
 you were comfortable," she said, seating herself in a 
 rocking-chair. 
 
 "So much so that I am tempted to rebel against it," 
 he answered. 
 
 She smiled sadly. " There are so many things that I 
 wanted to say to you, dear, but I haven't had a chance, 
 somehow." 
 
 Her eyes were tear-stricken and her voice trembled. 
 " It isn't possible that you could know what a mother's 
 love is, my son." 
 
 "I didn't know, but you have taught me." 
 
 "No, not yet ; but I will if you'll let me." 
 
 " If I'll let you ? " He looked at her in surprise. 
 
 "Yes, if you will bear with me. Sit here," she said, 
 tapping the broad arm of the chair. He obeyed, and 
 she took his arms and put them about her neck. 
 "There hasn't been much love in my life, precious. 
 Perhaps I am not showy enough, not strong enough for 
 the place I occupy." 
 
 " But you are good enough to hold the place of an 
 angel." 
 
 She attempted to speak, but failed. Something fell 
 on her hand, and she looked up. The man was weep- 
 ing. They sat there in silence.
 
 48 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 "In your early life," she said, pressing his arms closer 
 about her neck, " my love sought to protect you, but 
 now it must turn to you for support. Your uncle 
 but you told me not to speak of him." She paused 
 a moment, and then continued : " Your uncle did me a 
 deep wrong, but I had wronged him. Oh, I don't know 
 why I did. And he had kept my letters all these years." 
 Another silence. She was the first to speak. " Ellen 
 loves me, but a daughter's love is more of a help than a 
 support." 
 
 "And father?" 
 
 "Oh, he is good and kind," she quickly answered, 
 " but somehow I haven't kept up with him. He is so 
 strong, and I fear that my nature is too simple ; I haven't 
 force enough to help him when he's worried. He hasn't 
 said so, but I know it ! And of course you don't under- 
 stand me yet ; but won't you bear with me ? " 
 
 In her voice there was a sad pleading for love, and this 
 man, though playing a part, dropped the promptings of 
 his r61e, and with the memory of his own mother strong 
 within him, pressed this frail woman to his bosom and 
 with tender reverence kissed her. 
 
 "Oh," she sobbed, "I thank God for bringing you 
 back to me. Goodnight." 
 
 He closed the door when she was gone, and stood as 
 though he knew not whither to turn. He looked at the 
 onyx clock ticking on the mantelpiece. He listened to 
 the rumble of a carriage in the street. He put out his 
 hands, and going slowly into his sleeping-room, sank 
 upon his knees at the bedside.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE DOMAIN OF A GREAT MERCHANT. 
 
 TO ONE who has gazed for many hours upon whirl- 
 ing scenes, and who at his journey's end has gone 
 fco sleep in an unfamiliar place, the question of self- 
 identity presents itself at morning and of the dozing 
 faculties demands an answer. Henry lay in bed, catch- 
 ing at flitting consciousness, but missing it. He tried 
 to recall his own name, but could not. One moment 
 he felt that he was on board a ship, rising and sinking 
 with the mood of the sea ; then he was on a railway 
 train, catching sight of a fence that streaked its way 
 across a field. He saw a boy struggling with a horse 
 that was frightened at the train ; he saw a girl wave 
 her beflowered hat a rushing woods, a whirling open 
 space, a sleepy station. Once he fancied that he was a 
 child lying in bed, not at midnight, but at happy, bird- 
 chattered morning, when the sun was bright ; but then 
 he heard a roar and he saw a street stretch out into a 
 darkening distance, and he knew that he was in a great 
 city. Consciousness loitered within reach, and he 
 seized it. He was called to breakfast. 
 
 How bright the morning. Through the high and 
 church-like windows softened sunbeams fell upon the 
 stairway. He heard Ellen singing in the music-room ; 
 he met the rich fragrance of coffee. Mrs. Witherspoon, 
 with a smile of quiet happiness, stood at the foot of the 
 
 4 49
 
 50 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 stairs. Ellen came out with a lithe skip and threw a 
 kiss at him. "Witherspoon sat in the breakfast-room 
 reading a morning newspaper. 
 
 " "Well, my son, how do you find yourself this morn- 
 ing ? " the merchant asked, throwing aside the news- 
 paper and stretching himself back in his chair. 
 
 " First-rate ; but I had quite a time placing myself 
 before I was fully awake." 
 
 " I guess that's true of nearly everybody who comes 
 to Chicago. It makes no difference how wide-awake a 
 man thinks he is, he will find when he comes to this 
 city that he has been nodding." 
 
 Breakfast was announced. Ellen took Henry's hand 
 and said : " Come, this is your place here by me. 
 Mother told me to sit near you ; she wants me to check 
 any threatened outbreak of your foreign peculiarities." 
 
 " Ellen, what do you mean ? I didn't say anything 
 of the sort, Henry. It could make no difference where 
 xny mother's people were brought up. The Craigs always 
 knew how to conduct themselves." 
 
 "Oh, yes," Witherspoon spoke up, "the Craigs were 
 undoubtedly all right, but we are dealing with live 
 issues now. Henry, we'll go down to the store this 
 morning " 
 
 " So soon ? " his wife interrupted. 
 
 " So soon ? " the merchant repeated. " What do you 
 mean by so soon ? Won't it be time to go ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, I suppose so." 
 
 " And where do I come in ? " asked the girl. 
 
 "You can go if you insist," said Witherspoon, "but 
 there are matters that he and I must arrange at once. 
 We've got to fix up some sort of statement for the 
 newspapers ; can't keep this thing a secret, you know,
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 51 
 
 and a tailor must be consulted. Your clothes are all 
 right, my son," he quickly added, "but well, you 
 understand." 
 
 Henry understood, but he had thought when he left 
 New Orleans that he was well dressed. And now for a 
 moment he felt ragged. 
 
 "When shall we have the reception? " Ellen asked. 
 
 "The reception," Henry repeated, looking up in 
 alarm. 
 
 "Why, listen to him," the girl cried. "Don't you 
 know that we must give a reception? Why, we couldn't 
 get along without it; society would cut us dead. Think 
 how nice it will be invitations with 'To meet Mr. 
 Henry Witherspoon ' on them." 
 
 " Must I go through that ? " Henry asked, appealing 
 to Mrs. Witherspoon. 
 
 "Of course you must, but not until the proper 
 time." 
 
 "Why, it will be just splendid," the girl declared. 
 " You ought to have seen me the night society smiled 
 and said, ' Well, we will now permit you to be one of 
 us/ Oh, the idea of not showing you off, now that 
 we've caught you, is ridiculous. You needn't appeal to 
 mother. You couldn't keep her from parading you up 
 and down in the presence of her friends." 
 
 He was looking at Mrs. Witherspoon. She smiled 
 with more of humor than he had seen her face express, 
 and thus delivered her opinion: "If we had no recep- 
 tion, people would think that we were ashamed of our 
 sou." 
 
 "All right, mother ; if you want your friends to meet 
 the wild man of Borneo who has just come to town, I 
 have nothing more to sav. Your word shall be a law
 
 52 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 with me ; but I must tell you that whenever you make 
 arrangements into which I enter, you must remember 
 that society and I have had scarcely a hat-tipping 
 acquaintance. I may know many things that society 
 never even dreamed of, but some of society's simplest 
 phases are dangerous mysteries to me." 
 
 "Nonsense," said Witherspoon. " Society may rule a 
 poor man, but a rich man rules society. Common sense 
 always commands respect, for nearly every rule that 
 governs the conduct of man is founded upon it. Don't 
 you worry about the reception or anything else. You 
 are a man of the world, and to such a man society is a 
 mere plaything." 
 
 " Well," replied Ellen, wrinkling her handsome brow 
 with a frown, " I must say that you preach an odd sort 
 of sermon. Society is supposed to hold the culture and 
 the breeding of a community, sir." 
 
 "Yes, supposed to," Witherspoon agreed. 
 
 "Oh, well, if you question it I won't argue with you." 
 And giving Henry a meaning look, she continued : 
 "Of course business is first. Art drops on its worn 
 knees and prays to business, and literature begs it for a 
 mere nod. Everything is the servant of business." 
 
 "Everything in Chicago is," the merchant replied. 
 
 "Art is the old age of trade/' said Henry. "A vig- 
 orous nation buys and sells and fights ; but a nation that 
 is threatened with decay paints and begs." 
 
 " Good ! " Witherspoon exclaimed. " I think you've 
 hit it squarely. Since we went to Europe, Ellen has had 
 an idea that trade is rather low in the scale of human 
 interest." 
 
 " Now, father, I haven't any such idea, and you know 
 it, too. Bat I do think that people who spend their
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 53 
 
 lives in getting money can't be as refined as those who 
 have a higher aim." 
 
 AVitherspoon grunted. " What do you call a higher 
 aim ? Hanging about a picture gallery and simpering 
 over a lot of long-haired fellows in outlandish dress, ha ? 
 Is it refinement to worship a picture simply because you 
 are not able to buy it ? Some people rave over art, and 
 we buy it and hang it up at home." 
 
 She laughed, and slipping off her chair, ran round 
 to her father and put her arms about his neck. "I can 
 always stir you up, can't I ? " 
 
 "You can when you talk that way," he answered. 
 
 " But you know I don't mean that you aren't refined. 
 Who could be more gentle than you are ? But you 
 must let me enjoy an occasional mischief. My mother's 
 people, the Craigs, were all full of mischief, and" 
 
 " Ellen," said her mother. 
 
 Witherspoon laughed, and reaching back, pretended 
 to pull the girl's ears. " Am I going down town with 
 you ? " she asked. 
 
 " No, not this morning. I'm going to drive Henry 
 down in the light buggy. My boy, I've got as fine a 
 span of bay horses as you ever saw. Cost me five thou- 
 sand apiece. That's art for you; eh, Ellen?" 
 
 " They are beautiful," she admitted. 
 
 " Yes, and strung up with pride. Get ready, Henry, 
 and we'll go." 
 
 When Witherspoon gathered up the lines and with 
 the whip touched one of the horses, both jumped a r 
 though startled by the same impulse. 
 
 " There's grace for you," said Witherspoon. "Loo" 
 how they plant their fore feet." 
 
 Henry did not answer. He was looking back at a
 
 54 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 palace, his home; and he, too, was touched with a whip 
 the thrilling whip of pride. It lasted but a moment. 
 His memory threw up a home for the friendless, and 
 upon a background of hunger, squalor and wretched- 
 ness his fancy flashed the picture of an Italian hag, 
 crooning and -toothless. 
 
 "We'll turn into Michigan here," said the merchant. 
 " Isn't this a great thoroughfare ? Yonder is where we 
 lived before we built our new house. Just think what 
 this will be when these elms are old." They sped along 
 the smooth drive. " Ho, boys ! Business is creeping 
 out this way, and that is the reason I got over on Prairie. 
 See, that man has turned his residence into a sort of 
 store. A little farther along you will see fashionable 
 humbuggery of all sorts. These are women fakes along 
 here. Ho, boys, ho ! There's where old man Coltou 
 lives. We'll meet him at the store. In the Colossus 
 Company he is next to me. Smart old fellow, but he 
 worked many years in the hammer-and-tongs way, and 
 he probably never would have done much if he hadn't 
 been shoved. Ho, boys, ho! People ought to be 
 arrested for piling brick in the street this way. Colton 
 was always afraid of venturing; shuddered at the 
 thought of risking his money ; wanted it where he 
 could lay his hands on it at any time. Brooks, his son- 
 in-law, is a sort of general manager over our entire 
 establishment, and he is one of the most active and use- 
 ful men I ever saw bright, quick, characteristically 
 American. I think you'll like him. That place over 
 there " cutting his whip toward an old frame house 
 scalloped and corniced in fantastic flimsiness "was 
 sold the other day at about thirty per cent more than 
 it would have brought a few years ago."
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 55 
 
 They turned into another street and were taken up, 
 it seemed, by the swift trade currents that swirl at 
 morning, rush through the noon, glide past the evening 
 and rest for a time in the semi-calm of midnight. Chi- 
 cago has begun to set the pace of a nervous nation's 
 progress. It is a city whose growth has proved a fatal 
 example to many an overweaning town. Materialistic, 
 it holds no theory that points not to great results; 
 adventurous, it has small patience with methods that 
 slowness alone has stamped as legitimate. Worshiping 
 a deification of real estate, and with a rude aristocracy 
 building upon the blood of the sow and the tallow of the 
 bull, its atmosphere discourages one artist while invit- 
 ing another to rake up the showered rewards of a " boom " 
 patronage. Feeling that naught but sleepiness and 
 sloth should be censured, it resents even a kindly criti- 
 cism. Quick to recognize the feasibility of a scheme ; 
 giving money, but holding time as a sacred inheritance. 
 It is a re-gathering of the forces that peopled America 
 and then made her great among nations ; a mighty com- 
 munity with a growing literary force and with its cul- 
 ture and its real love for the beautiful largely con- 
 fined to the poor in purse ; grand in a thousand respects ; 
 with its history glaring upon the black sky of night ; 
 with the finest boulevards in America and the filthi- 
 est alleys a giant in need of a bath. 
 
 The Colossus stood as a towering island with "a tide 
 in the affairs of men " sweeping past. And it seemed 
 to Henry that the buggy was cast ashore as a piece of 
 driftwood that touches land and finds a lodgment. At 
 an earlier day, and not so long ago either, the flaw of 
 unconscious irony might have been picked in the name 
 Colossus, but now the establishment, covering almost a
 
 66 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 block and rising story upon story, filled in the outlines 
 of its pretentious christening. 
 
 "Tap, tap, tap cash, 46; tap, tap cash, 63," 
 >vas the leading strain in this din of extensive barter 
 and petty transaction. The Colossus boasted that it 
 could meet every commercial demand ; supply a sewing- 
 mahine needle or set up a saw-mill; receipt for gas bills 
 and water rates or fit out a general store. Under one 
 roof it held the resources of a city. Henry was startled 
 by its immensity, and as he followed Witherspoon through 
 labyrinths of bright gauzes and avenues of somber 
 goods, he perceived that a change in the tone of the 
 hum announced the approach of the master. And it 
 appeared that, no matter what a girl might be doing, 
 she began hurriedly to do something else the moment 
 she spied Witherspoon coming toward her. The quick 
 signs of flirtation, signals along the downward track of 
 morality, subsided whenever this ruler came within 
 sight ; and the smirk bargain-counter miss would 
 actually turn from the grinning idiocy of the bullet- 
 headed fellow who had come in to admire her and would 
 deign to wait on a poorly dressed woman who had 
 failed to attract her attention. 
 
 The offices of the management were on the first floor, 
 and Henry was conducted thither and shown into 
 Witherspoon's private appartment into the calico, 
 bombazine, hardware and universal nick-nack holy of 
 holies. The room was not fitted up for show, but for 
 business. Its furniture consisted mainly of a roll-top 
 desk, a stamp with its handle sticking up like the tail of 
 an excited cat, a dingy carpet and several chairs of a 
 shape so nngenial to the human form as to suggest that
 
 TEE COLOSSUS. &l 
 
 a hint at xne desirability of a visitor's early withdrawal 
 might have been incorporated in their construction. 
 
 "I will see if Colton has come down," Witherspoon 
 remarked, glancing through a door into another room. 
 "Yes, there he is. He's coming. Mr. Colton," said 
 Witherspoon, with deep impressiveness, " this is my son 
 Henry." 
 
 The old man bowed with a politeness in which there 
 was a reminder of a slower and therefore a more cour- 
 teous day, and taking the hand which Henry cordially 
 offered him, said : " To meet you affects me pro- 
 foundly, sir. Of course I am acquainted with youi 
 early history, and this adds to the interest I feel in you> 
 but aside from this, to meet a son of George Wither- 
 spoon must necessarily give me great pleasure." 
 
 "Brother Colton is from Maryland," Witherspoon 
 remarked, and a sudden shriveling about the old man's 
 mouth told that he was smiling at what he had long 
 since learned to believe was a capital bit of playfulness. 
 And he bowed, grabbled up a dingy handkerchief that 
 dangled from him somewhere, wiped off his shriveled 
 smile, and then declared that if frankness was a marl? 
 of the Marylander, he should always be glad to acknowl- 
 edge his native State. 
 
 , Brooks, Colton's son-in-law, now came in. This man, 
 while a floor-walker in a dry-goods store, had attracted 
 Witherspoon's notice, and a position in the Colossus, 
 at that time an experiment, was given him. He 
 recognized the demands of his calling, and he strove 
 to fit himself to them. Several years later he married 
 Miss Colton, and now he was in a position of such con- 
 fidence that many schemes for the broadening of trade 
 and for the pleasing of the public's changeful fancy
 
 58 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 were entrusted to his management. He was of a size 
 which appears to set off clothes to the best advan- 
 tage. His face was pale and thoughtful, and he 
 had the shrewd faculty of knowing when to smile. His 
 eyes were of such a bulge as to give him a spacious 
 range of vision without having to turn his head, and 
 while moving about in the discharge of his duty, he 
 often saw sudden situations that were not intended for 
 his entertainment. 
 
 Brooks was prepared for the meeting, and con- 
 ducted himself with a dignity that would have cast no 
 discredit upon the ablest floor- walker in Christendom. 
 He had known that he could not fail to be impressed 
 by one so closely allied by blood to Mr. George Wither- 
 spoon, but really he had not expected to meet a man of 
 so distinguished a bearing, a traveler and a scholar, no 
 doubt. 
 
 "Traveler enough to know that I have seen but little, 
 and scholar enough to feel my ignorance," Henry 
 replied. 
 
 "Oh, you do yourself an injustice, I am sure, but 
 you do it gracefully. We shall meet often, of course. 
 Mr. Witherspoon," he added, addressing the head of the 
 Colossus, "we have just arrested that Mrs. McXutt." 
 
 " How's that ? What Mrs. McXutt ? " 
 
 " Why, the woman who was suspected of shop-lifting. 
 This time we caught her in the act." 
 
 " Ah, hah. Have you sent her away ? " 
 
 "Not yet. She begs for an interview with you 
 says she can explain everything." 
 
 "Don't want to see her ; let her explain to the law." 
 
 "That's what I told her, sir."
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 59 
 
 Brooks bowed and withdrew. Old man Colton was 
 already at his desk. 
 
 " Now, my son," said Witherspoon, aimlessly fumbling 
 with some papers on his desk, " I should think that the 
 first thing to be attended to is that statement for the 
 newspapers. Wait a moment, and we will consult 
 Brooks. He knows more in that line than any one else 
 about the place." He tapped a bell. "Mr. Brooks," 
 he said when a boy appeared. Brooks came, and 
 Witherspoon explained. 
 
 "Ah, I see," said Brooks. " You don't want to give it 
 to any one paper, for that isn't business. We'll draw 
 off a statement and send it to the City Press Associa- 
 tion, and then it will be given out to all the papers." 
 
 "That is a capital idea ; you will help us get it up." 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Brooks, bowing. 
 
 "That will not be necessary," Henry protected, 
 unable to disguise his disapproval of the arrangement. 
 "I can write it in a very short time." 
 
 "Ah," Witherspoon replied, "bnt Brooks is used to 
 such work. He writes our advertisements." 
 
 "But this isn't an advertisement, and I prefer to 
 write it." 
 
 "Of course, if you can do it satisfactorily, but I 
 should think that it would be better if done by a 
 practiced hand." 
 
 "I think so too," Henry rejoined, "and for that 
 reason I recommend my own hand. I have worked on 
 newspapers." 
 
 " That so ? It may be fortunate so far as this one 
 instance is concerned, but as a general thing I shouldn't 
 Tecommend it. Newspaper men have such loose rneth-
 
 60 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 ods, as a rule, that they never accomplish much when 
 they turn their attention to business." 
 
 Henry laughed, but the merchant had spoken with 
 such seriousness that he was not disposed to turn it off 
 with a show of mirth. His face remained thoughtful, 
 and he said : " We had several newspaper men about 
 here, and not one of them amounted to anything. 
 Brooks, your services will not be needed. In fact, two 
 of them were dishonest," he added, when Brooks had 
 quitted the room. " They were said to be good news- 
 paper men, too. One of them came with ' Journalist ' 
 printed on his card ; had solicited advertisements for 
 nearly every paper in town. They were all understood 
 to be good solicitors." 
 
 ""What," said Henry, "were they simply advertising 
 solicitors ?" 
 
 " Why, yes ; and they were said to be good ones. " 
 
 " But you must know, sir, that an advertising solicitor 
 is not a newspaper man. It makes me sick I beg 
 your pardon. But it does rile me to hear that one of 
 these fellows has called himself a newspaper man. Of 
 course there are honest and able men in that employ- 
 ment, but they are not to be classed with men whose 
 learning, judgment and strong mental forces make a 
 great newspaper." 
 
 So new a life sprang into his voice, and so strong a 
 conviction emphasized his manner, that Witherspoon, 
 for the first time, looked on him with a sort of admira- 
 tion. 
 
 "Well, you seem to be loaded on this subject." 
 
 " Yes, but not offensively so, I hope. Now, give me 
 the points you want covered." 
 
 "All right; sit here."
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 61 
 
 Henry took Witherspoon's chair ; the merchant 
 walked up and down the room. The points were 
 agreed upon, and the writer was getting well along with 
 his work when Witherspoon suddenly paused in his 
 walk and said to some one outside: "Show him in 
 here." 
 
 A pale and restless-looking young man \\dth green 
 neckwear entered the room. "Xow, sir," the merchant 
 demanded somewhat sharply, " what do you want with 
 me ? You have been here three or four times, I under- 
 stand. What do you want ? " 
 
 ""We are not alone," the young man answered, 
 glancing at Henry. 
 
 "State your business or get out." 
 
 " "Well, it's rather a delicate matter, sir, and I didn't 
 want anything to do with it, but we don't always have 
 our own way, you know. Er the editor of the 
 paper " 
 
 " What paper ?" 
 
 "The Weekly Call. The editor sent me with in- 
 structions to ask you if this is true ? " 
 
 He handed a proof -slip to the merchant, and Henry 
 saw Witherspoon's face darken as he read it. The next 
 moment the great merchant stormed: "There isn't a 
 word of truth in it. It is an infamous lie from start to 
 finish." 
 
 "I told him I didn't think it was true," said the 
 young man, "but he talked as if he believed it; 
 remarked that you never advertised with him anyway." 
 
 " Advertise with him ! Why, I didn't know until this 
 minute that such a paper existed. How much of an 
 advertisement does he expect ? "
 
 62 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 " Held on a moment ! " Henry cried. " Let me kick 
 this fellow into the street." 
 
 "Nothing rash/' said Witherspoon, putting out his 
 hand. "Sit down, Henry. It will be all right. It's 
 something you don't understand." And speaking to 
 the visitor, he added : "Send me your rates." 
 
 "I have them here, sir," he replied, shying out of 
 Henry's reach. He handed a card to Witherspoon. 
 
 " Let me see, now. Will half a column for a year be 
 sufficient ? " 
 
 "Well, that's rather a small ad, sir." 
 
 Henry got up again. " I think I'd better kick him 
 into the street." 
 
 " No, no ; sit down there. Let me manage this. 
 Here." The blackmailer had retreated to the door. 
 "You go back to your editor and tell him that I will 
 put in a column for one year. Wait. Has anybody 
 seen this ? " he added, holding up the proof-slip. 
 
 " Nobody, sir, and I will have the type distributed as 
 soon as I get back." 
 
 "See that you do. Tell Brooks; he will send you 
 the copy. Now get out. Infamous scoundrel I " he 
 said when the fellow was gone. " But don't say any- 
 thing about it at home, for it really amounts to noth- 
 ing." 
 
 He tore the proof-slip into small fragments and 
 threw them into the spittoon. 
 
 " What is it all about ? " Henry asked. 
 
 "Oh, it's the foulest of fabrication. About a year 
 ago there came a widow from Washington with a letter 
 from one of our friends, and asked for a position in the 
 store. Well. \ve gave her employment, and and it is 
 about her ; but it really amounts to nothing."
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 63 
 
 "Why, then, didn't you let me kick the scoundrel 
 into the street ? " 
 
 "My dear boy, to a man who has the money it is 
 easier to pay than to explain. The public is greedy for 
 scandal, but looks with suspicion and coldness upon a 
 correction. One is sweet ; the other is tasteless. The 
 rapid acquisition of wealth is associated with some 
 mysterious crime, and men who have failed in wild 
 speculations are the first to cry out against the million- 
 aire. The rich man must pay for the privilege of 
 being rich. 
 
 The statement was sent to the city press. It reminded 
 the public of the abduction of Henry Witherspoon ; 
 touched upon the sensation created at the time, and 
 upon the long season of interest that had followed ; 
 explained the part which the uncle had played, and 
 delicately gave his cause for playing it. And the return 
 of the wanderer was set forth with graphic directness. 
 
 At noon the morchcnt and Henry ate luncheon in a 
 club where thic!: rugs hushed a foot-fall into a 
 mere whisper of a walk, where servants, grave of coun- 
 tenance and low of voice, seemed to underscore the chil- 
 liness of the place. Henry was introduced to a number 
 of astonished men, who said that they welcomed him 
 home, and who immediately began to talk about some- 
 thing else ; and he was shown through the large library, 
 where a solitary man sat looking at the pictures in a 
 comic weekly. After leaving the club they went to a 
 tailor's shop, and then drove over the boulevards and 
 through the parks. Witherspoon, with no pronounced 
 degree of pride, had conducted Henry through the 
 Colossus ; he had been pleased, of course, at the young 
 man's astonishment, and he must have been moved by
 
 64 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 a strong surge of self-glorification when his son 
 wondered at the broadness of the Witherspoon empire, 
 yet he had held in a strong subjection all signs of an 
 unseemly pride. But when he struck the boulevard 
 system, his dignified reserve went to pieces. 
 
 " Finest on earth ; no doubt about that. Oh, of 
 course, many years of talk and thousands of pages of 
 print have paved the Paris boulevards with peculiar 
 interest, but wipe out association, and where would they 
 be in comparison with these ? Look at that stretch. 
 And a few years ago this land could have been picked 
 up for almost nothing. Look at those flowers." 
 
 It was now past midsummer, but no suggestion of a 
 coming blight lay upon the flower-beds. "Look at 
 those trees. Why, in time they will knock the New 
 H&ven elms completely out."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE INTERVIEWERS. 
 
 WHEN they reached home at evening they found 
 that five reporters had been shown into the li- 
 brary and were waiting for them. 
 
 "Glad to see you, gentlemen," said Witherspoon, 
 emiling in his way of pleasant dismissal, "but really 
 that statement contains all that it is necessary for the 
 public to know. We don't want to make a sensation of 
 it, you understand." 
 
 " Of course not," one of the newspaper men replied. 
 
 "And," said the merchant, with another smile, "I 
 don't know what else can be said." 
 
 But the smile had missed its aim. The attention of 
 the visitors was settled upon Henry. There was no 
 bhance for separate interviews, and questions were asked 
 by first one and then another. 
 
 " You had no idea that your parents were alive ? " 
 
 "Not until after my uncle's death." 
 
 " Had he ever told you why you were in his charge ? * 
 
 " Yes ; he said that at the death of my parents I had 
 been given to him." 
 
 " You of course knew the story of the mysterious dis- 
 appearance of Henry Witherspoon." 
 
 "Yes ; when a boy I had read something about it." 
 
 " In view of the many frauds that had been attempted, 
 
 5 65
 
 66 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 hadn't you a fear that your father might be suspl, 
 cious of yon?" 
 
 " No ; I had forwarded letters and held proof that 
 could not be disputed. The mystery was cleared up." 
 
 " How old are you ? " 
 
 " I shall be twenty-five next next " 
 
 "December the fourteenth," Witherspoon answered 
 for him. 
 
 "The truth .is," said Henry, "uncle did not remem- 
 ber the exact date of my birth." 
 
 " "Was your uncle a man of means ? " 
 
 "Well, I can hardly say that he was. He speculated 
 considerably, and though he was never largely success- 
 ful, yet he always managed to live well." 
 
 " Were you engaged in any sort of employment? " 
 
 "Yes, at different times I was a reporter." 
 
 " It is not necessary that the public should know all 
 this," said Witherspoon. 
 
 " But we can't help it," Henry replied. " The state- 
 ment we sent out would simply serve to hone and strap 
 public curiosity to a keen edge. I expected something 
 of this sort. The only thing to do is to get through 
 with it as soon as we can." 
 
 When the interview was ended Henry went to the 
 front door with the reporters, and at- parting said to 
 them : " I hope to see you again, gentlemen, and doubt- 
 iess I shall. I am one of you." 
 
 At dinner that evening Witherspoon was in high 
 spirits. He joked a recreation rare with him and 
 he told a story a mental excursion of marked uncom- 
 monness. 
 
 " What, Henry, don't you drink wiue at all ? " the 
 merchant asked.
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 67 
 
 "No, sir, I stand in mortal fear of it." The vision 
 of a drunken painter, lie always fancied, hung like a 
 fog between him and the liquor glass. 
 
 "It's well enough, my son." 
 
 "Xone of the Craigs were drunkards," said Ellen, 
 giggling. 
 
 "Ellen," Mrs. Witherspoon solemnly enjoined, "my 
 mother's people shall not be made sport of. It is true 
 that there were no drunkards among them. And 
 why ? " 
 
 " Because none of them got drunk, I should think," 
 Henry ventured to suggest. 
 
 " That, of course, was one reason, my son, but the . 
 main reason was that they knew-^ how to govern them- 
 selves." 
 
 The evening flew away with music and with talk of 
 a long ago made doubly dear by present happiness. 
 The hour was growing late. Witherspoon and Henry 
 sat in the library, smoking. Ellen had gone to her 
 room to draft a form for the invitation to Henry's 
 reception, and Mrs. "Witherspoon was on a midnight 
 prowl throughout the house, and although knowing 
 that everything was right, yet surprised to find it so. 
 
 "Now, my boy," said the merchant, "we will talk 
 business. Your mother, and particularly your sister, 
 thought it well for me to make you an allowance, and 
 while I don't object to the putting of money aside for 
 yon, yet I should rather have you feel the manliness 
 which comes of drawing a salary for services rendered. 
 That is more American. You see how useful Brooks 
 has made himself. Now, why can't you work yourself 
 into a similar position ? In the future, the charge of 
 the entire establishment may devolve upon you. All
 
 fcj THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 that a real man wants is a chance, and such a chance a< 
 I now urge upon you falls to the lot of but few young 
 men. Had such an opportunity been given to me when 
 I was young, I should have regarded myself as one 
 specially favored by the partial goddess of fortune." 
 
 He was now walking up and down the room. He 
 spoke with fervor, and Henry saw how strong he was 
 and wondered not at his great success. 
 
 "I don't often resort to figures of speech," Wither- 
 spoon continued, "but even the most practical man 
 feels sometimes that illustration is a necessity. Words 
 are the trademarks of the goods stored in the mind, and 
 a flashy expression proclaims the flimsy trinket." 
 
 Was his unwonted indulgence in wine at dinner play, 
 ing rhetorical tricks with his mind ? 
 
 "I spoke just now of the partial goddess of fortune," 
 the merchant continued, "in the hope that I might 
 impress you with a deplorable truth. Fortune is vested 
 with a peculiar discrimination. It appears more often 
 to favor the unjust than the just. Ability and a life of 
 constant wooing do not always win success, for luck, 
 the factotum of fortune, often bestows in one minute a 
 success which a life-time of stubborn toil could not have 
 achieved. Therefore, I say to you, think well of your 
 position, and instead of drawing idly upon your great 
 advantage, add to it. Successful men are often nig- 
 gardly of advice, while the prattling tongue nearly 
 always belongs to failure ; therefore, when a successful 
 man does advise, heed him. I think that I should have 
 succeeded in nearly any walk of life. Sturdy New Eng- 
 land stock, the hard necessity for thrift, and the prac- 
 tical common school fitted me to push my way to the 
 front. Don't think that I am boasting. It is no more
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 69 
 
 of vanity for one to say ' I have succeeded ' than to say ' I 
 will succeed/" He paused a moment and stood near 
 Henry's chair. " Yon have the chance to become what 
 I cannot be one of the wealthiest men in this coun- 
 try." He sat down, and leaning back in his leather- 
 severed chair, stretched forth his legs and crossed his 
 slippered feet. He looked at Henry. 
 
 " To some men success is natural, and to others it is 
 impossible," Henry replied. "I can well see that pros- 
 perity could not long have kept beyond your reach. 
 Your mind led you in a certain direction, and instead 
 of resisting, you gladly followed it. You say that you 
 should have been a success in any walk of life, and 
 while it is true that you would have made money, it 
 does not follow that you would have found that con- 
 tentment which is beyond all earthly price. I admit 
 that the opportunity which you offer me is one of rarest 
 advantage, but knowing myself, I feel that in "accept- 
 4ng it I should be doing you an injustice. It may be so 
 strange to you that you can't understand it, yet I 
 haven't a single commercial instinct ; and to be frank 
 with you, that great store would be a penitentiary to 
 me. Wait a moment." Witherspoon had bounded to 
 "lis feet. "I am willing to do almost anything," Henry 
 continued, "but I can't consent to a complete darken- 
 ing of my life. I admit that I am peculiar, and shall 
 not dispute you in your belief that my mind is not 
 strong, but I am firm when it comes to purpose. To 
 hear one say that he doesn't care to be the richest man 
 in the country may strike you as the utterance of a 
 fool, and yet I am compelled to say it. I don't want 
 you to make me an allowance. I don't want " 
 
 " What in God's name do you want, sir ! " Wither-
 
 70 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 spoon exclaimed. He was walking up and down the 
 room, not with the regular paces which had marked his 
 stroll a few moments before, but with the uneven tread 
 of anger. " What in Gou's name can you ask ? " 
 
 He turned upon Henry, and standing still, gave him 
 a look of hard inquiry. 
 
 " I ask nothing in God's name, and surely nothing in 
 my own. I knew that this would put you out, and I 
 dreaded it, but it had to come. Suppose that at my 
 age the opportunity to manage a cattle ranch had been 
 offered you." 
 
 " I would have taken it ; I would have made it the 
 biggest cattle ranch in the country. It galls me, sir, it 
 galls me to see my own children sticking up their noses 
 at honest employment." 
 
 " Pardon me, but so far as I am concerned you are 
 wrong. I seek honest employment. But what is the 
 most honest employment ? Any employment that 
 yields an income ? No ; but the work that one is 
 best fitted for and which is therefore the most satis- 
 factory. If you had shaped my .early life " 
 
 " Andrew was a fool ! " Witherspoon broke in. " He 
 was crazy." 
 
 "But he was something of a gentleman, sir." 
 
 " Gentleman ! " Witherspoon snorted ; " he was the 
 worst of all thieves a child-stealer." 
 
 " And had you been entirely blameless, sir ? " 
 
 "What! and do you reproach me ? Now look here." 
 He pointed a shaking finger at Henry. "Don't you 
 ever hint at such a thing again-. My God, this is dis- 
 graceful!" he muttered, resuming his uneven walk. 
 " My hopes were so built up. Now you knock them
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 71 
 
 down. What the devil do you want, sir ! " he exclaimed, 
 wheeling about. 
 
 "I will tell you if you will listen." 
 
 " Oh, yes, of course you will. It will no doubt do 
 you great good to humiliate me. " 
 
 " When you feel, sir, that I am humiliating ycra, one 
 word is all you need to say." 
 
 "What's that ? Come now, no foolish threats. 
 What is it you want to do ? " 
 
 "I have an idea," Henry answered, "that I could 
 manage a newspaper." 
 
 " The devil you have." 
 
 " Yes, the devil I have, if you insist. I am a news- 
 paper man and I like the work. It holds a fascination 
 for me while everything else is dull. Now, I have a 
 proposal to make, not a modest one, perhaps, but one 
 which I hope you will patiently consider if you can. 
 It would be easy for you to get control of some after- 
 noon newspaper. I can take charge of it, and in time 
 pay back the money you invest. I don't ask you to 
 give me a cent." 
 
 The merchant was about to reply, when Mrs. Wither- 
 spoon entered the room. " Why, what is the matter ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 Witherspoon resumed his seat, shoved his hands deep 
 into his pockets, stretched forth his legs, crossed his 
 feet and nervously shook them. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " she repeated. 
 
 "Everything's the matter," Witherspoon declared. 
 "I have suggested" he didn't say demanded "that 
 Henry should go into the store and gradually take 
 charge of the whole thing, and he positively refuses.
 
 72 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 He wants to run a newspaper." The merchant grunted 
 and shook his feet. 
 
 " But is there anything so bad about that ? " she 
 asked. "I am sure it is no more than natural. Mj, 
 uncle Louis used to write for the Salem Monitor." 
 
 He looked at her he did not say a word, but he 
 looked at her. 
 
 " And Uncle Harvey " 
 
 He grunted, flounced out of his chair and quitted the 
 room. 
 
 "Mother," said Henry, getting up and taking her 
 hand, " I am grieved that this dispute arose. I kno-w 
 that he is set in his ways, and it is unfortunate that I 
 was compelled to cross him, but it had to come soonet 
 or later." 
 
 " I am very sorry, but I don't blame you, my son. Ii 
 you don't want to go into the store, why should you ? " 
 
 They heard Witherspoon's jolting walk, up and down 
 the hall. 
 
 "You have but one life here on this earth," she said, 
 "and I don't see why you should make that one life 
 miserable by engaging in something that is distasteful 
 to you. But if your father has a fault it is that ho 
 believes every one should think as he does. Don't &ij 
 anything more to him to-night." 
 
 When Henry went out Witherspoon was still walking 
 up and down the hall. They passed, but took not the 
 slightest notice of each other. How different from the 
 night before. Henry lay awake, thinking of the dead 
 boy, and pictured his eternal sleeping-place, hard 
 by the stormy sea.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ROMPED WITH THE GIRL. 
 
 THE morning was heavy and almost breathless. The 
 smoke of the city hung low in the streets. Henry 
 had passed through a dreamful and uneasy sleep. He 
 thought it wise to remain in his room until the mer- 
 chant was gone down town, and troublously he had 
 begun to doze again when Ellen's voice aroused him. 
 " Come on down ! " she cried, tapping on the door. 
 " You just ought to see what the newspapers have said 
 about you. Everybody in the neighborhood is staring 
 at us. Come on down." 
 
 "\Yitherspoon was sitting on a sofa with a pile of 
 newspapers beside him. He looked up as Henry- 
 entered, and in the expression of his face there was 
 no displeasure to recall the controversy of the night 
 before. 
 
 ""Well, sir," said he, "they have given you a broad 
 spread." 
 
 The reporters had done their work well. It was a 
 great sensation. Henry was variously described. One 
 report said that he had a dreaminess of eye that was not 
 characteristic of this strong, pragmatic family ; another 
 declared him to be "tall, rather handsome, black- 
 bearded, and with the quiet sense of humor that 
 belongs to the temperament of a modest man." One 
 reporter had noticed that his Southern-cut clothes did 
 not fit him. 
 
 73
 
 74 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 "He might have said something nicer than that," 
 Ellen remarked, with a natural protest against this 
 undue familiarity. 
 
 " I don't know why we should be spoken of as a prag- 
 matic family," said Mrs. Witherspoon. "Of course 
 your father has always been in business, but I don't 
 see" 
 
 "Witherspoon began to grunt. "It's all right," said 
 he. " It's all right. " He had to say something. " Come, 
 I must get down town." 
 
 " Shall I go with you ? " Henry asked. 
 
 For a moment Witherspoon was silent. " Xot unless 
 you want to," he answered. 
 
 They sat down to breakfast. Henry nervously ex- 
 pected another outbreak. The merchant began to say 
 something, but stopped on a half utterance and cleared 
 his throat. "It is corning," Henry thought. 
 
 "I have studied over our talk of last night," said 
 Witherspoon, "and while I won't say that you may be 
 right, or have any excuse for presuming that you are 
 right, I am inclined to indulge that wild scheme of 
 yours for a while. My impression is that you'll soon get 
 sick of it." 
 
 Mrs. Witherspoon looked at him thankfully. " And 
 you will give him a chance, father," she said. 
 
 "Didn't I say I would? Isn't that exactly what 1 
 said ? Gracious alive, don't make me out a grinding 
 and unyielding monster. "We'll look round, Henry, 
 and see what can be done. Brooks may know of some 
 opening. You'd better rest here to-day. " 
 
 "I am .deeply grateful, sir, for the concession you 
 have made," Henry replied. "I know how you feel on 
 the subject, and I regret "
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 75 
 
 "All right." 
 
 " Eegret that I was forced " 
 
 "I said it was all right." 
 
 " Forced to oppose you, but I don't think that you'll 
 have cause to feel ashamed of me." 
 
 " You have already made me feel proud of your man- 
 liness," said Witherspoon. 
 
 Henry bowed, and Mrs. Witherspoon gave her hus- 
 band an impulsive look of gratitude. The -merchant 
 continued : 
 
 " You have refused my offer, but you have not pre- 
 sumed upon your own position. Sincerity expects a 
 reward, as a rule, and when a man is sincere at his own 
 expense, there is something about him to admire. You 
 don't prefer to live idly to draw on me and I 
 should want no stronger proof that you are, indeed, my 
 son. It is stronger than the gold chain you brought 
 home with you, for that might have been found ; but 
 manly traits are not to be picked up ; they come of in- 
 heritance. Well, I must go. I will speak to Brooks 
 and see if anything can be done." 
 
 Rain began to fall. How full of restful meditation 
 was this dripping-time, how brooding with half-formed, 
 languorous thoughts that begin as an idea and end as a 
 reverie. Sometimes a soothing spirit which the sun 
 could not evoke from its boundless fields of light comes 
 out of the dark bosom of a cloud. A bright day 
 promises so much, so builds our hopes, that our keenest 
 disappointments seem to come on a radiant morning, 
 but on a dismal day, when nothing has been promised, 
 a straggling pleasure is accidentally found and is pressed 
 tlae closer to the senses because it was so unexpected. 
 
 To Henry came the conviction that he was doing his
 
 76 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 duty, and yet he could not at times subdue the feeling 
 that pleasant environment was the advocate that had 
 urged this decision. But he refused to argue with him- 
 self. Sometimes he strode after Mrs. Witherspoon as 
 she went about the house, and he knew that she was 
 happy because he followed her ; and up and down the 
 hall he romped with Ellen. They termed it a frolic 
 that they should have enjoyed years ago, and they 
 laughingly said that from the past they would snatch 
 their separated childhood and blend it now. It was a 
 back-number pleasure, they agreed, but that, like an old 
 print, it held a charm in its quaintness. She brought 
 out a doll that had for years been asleep in a little blue 
 trunk. " Her name is Bose," she said, and with a broad 
 ribbon she deftly made a cap and put it on the doll's 
 head. After a while Hose was put to sleep again the 
 bright little mummy of a child's affection, Henry called 
 her and the playmates became older. She told him 
 of the many suitors that had sought to woo her ; of rich 
 men ; of poor young fellows who strove to keep time to 
 the quick-changing tune of fashion ; of moon-impressed 
 youths who measured their impatient yearning. 
 
 " And when are you going to let one of them take 
 you away ? " Henry asked. Holding his hand, she had 
 led him in front of a mirror. 
 
 " Oh, not at all," she answered, smiling at herself and 
 then at him. " I haven't fallen in love with anybody 
 yet." 
 
 " And is that necessary ? " 
 
 " Why, you know it is, goose. I'd be a pretty-looking 
 thing to marry a man I didn't love, wouldn't I ? " 
 
 " You are a pretty thir> g any way. " 
 
 " Oh, do you really think so ? "
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 77 
 
 "I know it." 
 
 " You are making fun of me. If you had met me 
 accidentally, would you have thought so ? " 
 
 " Surely ; my eyes are always open to the truth." 
 
 " If I could meet such a man as you are I could love 
 him ' with a dreaminess of eye not characteristic of 
 this strong, pragmatic family/" 
 
 She broke away from him, but he caught her. " If I 
 were not related to you," he said, "I would be tempted 
 to kiss you." 
 
 " Oh, you'd be tempted to kiss me, would you ? If 
 you were not related to me I wouldn't let you, but as it 
 is there ! " 
 
 His blood tingled. Her hair was falling about her 
 shoulders. For a moment it was a strife for him to 
 believe that she was his sister. 
 
 "Beautiful," he said, running his fingers through 
 her hair. " Somebody said that the glory of a woman 
 is her hair ; and it is true. It is a glory that always 
 catches me." 
 
 " Does it ? Well, I must put up my glory before 
 papa comes. Oh, you are such a romp ; but I was just 
 a little afraid of you at first, you were so sedate and 
 dreamy of eye." 
 
 She ran away from him, and looking back with 
 mischief in her eyes, she hummed a schottish, and 
 keeping time to it, danced up the stairway. 
 
 When Witherspoon came to dinner he said that he 
 had consulted Brooks and that the resourceful manager 
 knew of a possible opening. 
 
 The owner of the Star, a politician who had 
 been foolish enough to suppose that with the control 
 of an editorial page he could illumine hie virtues
 
 78 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 and throw darkness over his faults., was willing to 
 part with his experiment. " I think that we can get 
 it at a very reasonable figure," said Witherspoon. And 
 after a moment's silence he added : " Brooks can pull 
 you a good many advertisements in a quiet way, and 
 possibly the thing may be made to turn out all right. 
 But I tell you again that I am very much disappointed. 
 Your place is with me but we won't talk about it. 
 How came you to take up that line of work ? " 
 
 "I began by selling newspapers." 
 
 Mrs. Witherspoon sighed, and the merchant asked : 
 " And did Andrew urge it ? " 
 
 " Oh, no. In fact I was a reporter before he knew 
 anything about it." 
 
 Witherspoon grunted. "I should have thought," 
 said he, " that your uncle would have looked after you 
 with more care. Did you receive a regular course of 
 training ? " Henry looked at him. " At school, I 
 mean." 
 
 " Yes, in an elementary way. Afterward I studied 
 in the public library. " 
 
 "A good school, but not cohesive," Witherspoon 
 replied. "A thousand scraps of knowledge don't make 
 an education." 
 
 "Father, you remember my uncle Harvey," said Mrs. 
 Witherspoon. 
 
 "Hum, yes, I remember him." 
 
 "Well, his education did not prevent his having a 
 thousand scraps of knowledge." 
 
 "I should think not," Witherspoou replied. "Xo 
 man's knowledge interferes with his education." 
 
 "My uncle Harvey knew nearly everything," Mrs. 
 Witherspoou went on. "He could make a clock ; and
 
 THE COLOSSUS'. 79 
 
 he was one of the best school teachers in the country. 
 I shouldn't think that education consists in committing 
 a few rules to memory." 
 
 " No, Caroline, not in the committing of a thousand 
 rules to memory, but without rule there is no complete 
 education." 
 
 " I shouldn't think that there could be a complete 
 education anyway," she rejoined, in a tone which 
 Henry knew was meant in defense of himself. 
 
 "Of course not," said the merchant, and turning 
 from the subject as from something that could interest 
 him but little, he again took up the newspaper project. 
 " We'll investigate thht matter to-morrow, and if you 
 are still determined to go into it, the sooner the better. 
 My own opinion is that you will soon get tired of it, in 
 view of the better advantages that I urge upon you, for 
 the worries of an experimental concern will serve to 
 strengthen my proposal." 
 
 " I .am resolved that in the end it shall cost you 
 nothing," Henry replied. 
 
 " Hum, we'll see about that. But whatever you do, 
 do it earnestly, for a failure in one line does not argue 
 success in another direction. In business it is well to 
 beware of men who have failed. They bring bad luck. 
 Without success there may be vanity, but there can be 
 but little pride, little self-respect." 
 
 Henry moved uneasily in his chair. "But among 
 those who have failed," he replied, "we often find the 
 highest types of manhood." 
 
 "Nonsense," rejoined the merchant. "That is 
 merely a poetic idea. What do you mean by the 
 highest type of manhood ? Men whose theories have all 
 been proved to be wrong ? Great men have an aim ana
 
 00 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 accomplish it. America is a great country, and why ? 
 Because it is prosperous." 
 
 " I don't mean that failure necessarily implies that a 
 man's aim has been high," said Henry, "neither do I 
 think that financial success is greatness. But our 
 views are at variance and I fear that we shall never be 
 able to reconcile them. I may be wrong, and it is more 
 than likely that I am. At times I feel that there is 
 nothing in the entire scheme of life. If a man is too 
 serious we call him a pessimist ; if he is too happy we 
 know that he is an idiot." 
 
 "Henry, you are too young a man to talk that way." 
 
 "My son," said Mrs. Witherspoon, "the Lord has 
 nade us for a special purpose, and we ought not to 
 question His plans." 
 
 "No, mother," Ellen spoke up, "but we should like 
 to know something about that especial part of the plan 
 which relates to us." 
 
 " My daughter, this is not a question for you to dis- 
 cuss. Your duty in this life is so clearly marked out 
 that there can be no mistake about it. With my son it 
 has unfortunately been different." 
 
 The girl smiled. "A woman's duty is not so clearly 
 marked out now as it used to be, mother. As long as 
 man was permitted to mark it out her duty was clear 
 enough to him." 
 
 "Hum!" Witherspoon grunted, "we are about to 
 have a woman's advancement session. Will you please 
 preside ? " he added, nodding at Ellen. She laughed at 
 him. He continued: "After a while Vassar will be 
 nothing but a woman's convention. Henry, we will go 
 down to-morrow and look after that newspaper."
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 ACKNOWLEDGED BY SOCIETY. 
 
 THE politician was surprised. He had not supposed 
 that any one even suspected that he wanted to get 
 rid of the Star ; indeed, he was not aware that the 
 public knew of his ownership of that paper. It was a 
 very valuable piece of property ; but unfortunately his 
 time was so taken up with other matters that he could 
 not give it the attention it deserved. Its circula- 
 tion was growing every day, and with proper manage- 
 ment its influence could be extended to every corner of 
 the country. "Witherspoon replied that he was surprised 
 to hear that the paper was doing so well. He did not 
 often see a copy of it. The politician and the merchant 
 understood each other, and the bargain was soon brought 
 to a close. 
 
 And now the time for the reception was at hand. A 
 florist's wagon stood in front of the door, and the young 
 man thought, " This is my funeral." Every preparation 
 gave him a shudder. Ellen laughed at him. 
 
 "It's well enough for you to laugh," said he, "for you 
 are safe in the amphitheater while I am in the ring 
 with the bull." 
 
 " Why, you great big goose, is anybody going to hurt 
 you?" 
 
 " No ; and that's the trouble. If somebody were to 
 hurt me, I could relieve myself of embarrass Jient by 
 taking up revenge." 
 
 6 8S,
 
 82 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 At the very eleventh hour of preparation he was not 
 only reconciled to the affliction of a reception, but 
 appeared rather to look with favor upon the affair. 
 And it was this peculiar reasoning that brought him 
 round : " I am here in place of another. I am not 
 known. I am as a writer who hides behind a pen- 
 name." 
 
 The evening came with a rumble of carriages. An 
 invitation to a reception means, " Come and be pleased. 
 Frowns are to be left at home." The difference be- 
 tween one society gathering and another is the differ- 
 ence that exists between two white shoes one may be 
 larger than the other. Witherspoon was lordly, and in 
 his smile a stranger might have seen a life of gener- 
 osities. And with what a welcoming dignity he took 
 the hand that in its time had cut the throats of a 
 thousand hogs. Diamonds gleamed in the mellowed 
 light, and there were smiles none the less radiant for 
 having been carefully trained. The evening was warm. 
 There was a wing-like movement of feathered fans. 
 Scented time was flying away. 
 
 The guests were gone, and Henry sat in his room. 
 He had thrown off the garments which convention had 
 prescribed, and now, with his feet on a table, he sat 
 smoking an old black pipe that he had lolled with on 
 the mountains of Costa Rica. The night which was 
 now ending waved back for review. Ellen, beautiful in 
 an empire gown, golden yellow, brocaded satin. " Why 
 did you try to dodge this ? " she had asked in a whisper. 
 "You are the most self-possessed man in the house. 
 Can't you see how proud we all are of you ? I have 
 never seen mother so happy." 
 
 The perfume of praise was in the air. " Oh, I think
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 83 
 
 your brother is just charming," a young woman had 
 said to Ellen, and Henry had caught the words. 
 
 "He is like my mother's people." Mrs. Witherspoon 
 was talking to a woman whose hair had been grayed and 
 who appeared to enjoy the distinction of being an in- 
 valid. The Coltons and the Brooks contingent had 
 smeared him with compliments. There was a literary 
 group, and the titles of a hundred books were mentioned ; 
 one writer was charming ; another was horrid. There 
 was the group of household government, and the serv- 
 ant-girl question, which has never been found in repose, 
 was tossed from one woman to another and caught as a 
 bag of sweets. In the library was a commercial and 
 real-estate gathering, and the field of speculation was 
 broken up, harrowed and seeded down. 
 
 The black-bearded muser put his pipe aside, and from 
 thia glowing scene his thoughts flew away into a dark 
 night when he stood in Ulmata, knocking at the door 
 of a deserted house. He got up and stood at the win- 
 dow. Sparrows twittered. Threads of gray dawn 
 streaked the black warp of night. 
 
 At morning there was another spread in the news- 
 papers. The wonder of a few days had spent its force, 
 and the Witherspoon sensation was done.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A DEMOCRACY. 
 
 Star was printed in an old building where more 
 than one newspaper had failed. The interior of 
 the place was so comfortless in arrangement, so subject 
 to unaccountable drafts of cold air in winter and 
 breaths of hot oppression in summer, that it must have 
 been built especially for a newspaper office. Henry 
 found that the working force consisted mainly of a few 
 young reporters and a large force of editorial writers. 
 The weakness of nearly every newspaper is its editorial 
 page, and especially so when the paper is owned by a 
 politician. The new manager straightway began a re- 
 organization. It was an easy matter to form an effi- 
 cient staff, for in every city some of the best newspaper 
 men are out of employment the bright and uncertain 
 writers who have been shoved aside by trustworthy 
 plodders. He did not begin as one who knows it all, 
 but he sought the co-operation of practical men. The 
 very man who knew that the paper could not do with- 
 out him was told that his services were no longer 
 needed. In his day he had spread many an acre of 
 platitudes ; he had hammered the tariff mummy, and 
 at every lick he had knocked out the black dust ; he 
 had snorted loud in controversy, and was arrogant in 
 the certainty that his blowhard sentence was the frosty 
 air of satire. He was the representative of a class. 
 To him all clearness of expression was shallowness of 
 
 84
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 85 
 
 thought, and brightness was the essence of frivolity. 
 He soon found another place, for some of the Chicago 
 newspapers still set a premiun upon windy dullness. 
 
 Among the writers whom Henry decided to retain 
 was Laura Drury. She wrote book reviews and scraps 
 which were supposed to be of interest to women. Her 
 room opened into Henry's, and through a door which 
 was never shut he could see her at work. The bright- 
 ness and the modesty of her face attracted him. She 
 could not have been more than twenty years of age. 
 
 " Have you been long in newspaper work T " he 
 asked, Avhen she had come in to submit something to 
 him. 
 
 "Only a short time," she answered, and returned at 
 once to her desk. Henry looked at her as she proceeded 
 with her work. Her presence seemed to refine the 
 entire office. He fancied that her hair made the room 
 brighter. His curiosity was awakened by one touch of 
 her presence. He sought to know more of her, and 
 when she had come in again to consult him, he said : 
 "Wait a moment, please. How long have you been 
 connected with this paper ? " 
 
 "About three months, regularly." 
 
 " Had you worked on any other paper in the city ? " 
 
 "No, sir ; I have never worked on any other paper." 
 
 " Have you lived here long ? " 
 
 " No, sir, I have been here only a short time. I am 
 from Missouri." 
 
 " You didn't come alone, did you ? " 
 
 She glanced at him quickly and answered : " I came 
 alone, but I live with my aunt." 
 
 She returned to her work, and she must have dis-
 
 86 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 covered that he was watching her, for the next day he 
 saw that she had moved her desk. 
 
 Henry had applied for membership in the Press Club, 
 and one morning a reporter told him that he had been 
 elected. 
 
 " Was there any opposition ? " the editor asked. 
 
 "Not after the boys learned that you had been a 
 reporter. You can go over at any time and sign the 
 constitution." 
 
 "I'll go now. Suppose you come with me." 
 
 The Press Club of Chicago is a democracy. Money 
 holds but little influence within its precincts, for its 
 ablest members are generally "broke." There are no 
 rules hung on its walls, no cool ceremonies to be observed. 
 Its atmosphere invites a man to be natural, and warns 
 him to conceal his vanities. Among that body of men 
 no pretense is sacred. Here men of Puritan ancestry 
 find it well to curb a puritanical instinct. A stranger 
 may be shocked by a snort of profanity, but if he listen 
 he will hear a bright and poetic blending of words rip- 
 pling after it. A great preacher, whose sermons are 
 read by the world, sat one day in the club, uttering the 
 slow and heavy sentences of an oracle. He touched his 
 finger tips together. He was discoursing on some phase 
 of life ; and an old night police reporter listened for a 
 moment and said, " Rats ! " The great man was star- 
 tled. Accustomed to deliver his theories to a silent 
 congregation, he was astonished to find that his wisdom 
 could so irreverently be questioned. The reporter meant 
 no disrespect, but he could not restrain his contempt for 
 so presuming a piece of ignorance. He turned to the 
 preacher and showed him where his theories were wrong. 
 With a pin he touched the bubble of the great man's
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 87 
 
 presn nation, and it was done kindly, for when the sage 
 arose ',o go he said : " I must confess that I have learned 
 something. I fear that a preacher's library does not con- 
 tain all that is worth knowing." And this, more than 
 any of his sermons, proved his wisdom. 
 
 In the Press Club the pulse of the town can be felt, 
 and scandals that money and social influence have sup- 
 r ressed are known there. The characters of public 
 len are correctly estimated ; snobs are laughed at j and 
 he society woman who seeks to bribe the press with 
 ;he cajolery of a smile is a familiar joke. Of course 
 this is not wholly a harmonious body, for keen intelli- 
 gence is never in smooth accord with itself. To the 
 "kicker" is given the right to "kick," and keen is the 
 enjoyment of this privilege. Every directory is the 
 worst ; every officer neglects his duty. 
 
 Literary societies know but little of this club, for 
 literary societies despise the affairs of the real worker 
 they are interested in the bladdery essay written by 
 the fashionable ass. 
 
 Henry was shown into a large room, brightly carpeted 
 and hung with portraits. On a leather lounge a man 
 lay asleep ; at a round table a man sat, solemnly play- 
 ing solitaire ; and in one corner of the apartment sat 
 several men, discussing an outrageous clause in the con- 
 stitution that Henry had just signed. The new mem- 
 ber was introduced to them. Among the number were 
 John McGlenn, John Richmond and a shrewd little 
 Yankee named Whittlesy. Of McGlenn's character a 
 whole book might be written. An individual almost 
 wholly distinct from his fellow-men ; a castigator of 
 human weakness and yet a hero-worshiper not the 
 hero of burning powder and fluttering flags, but any
 
 88 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 human being whose brain had blazed and lighted the 
 world. Art was to him the soul of literature. Had 
 he lived two thousand years ago, as the founder of a 
 peculiar school of philosophy, he might still be alive. 
 If frankness be a virtue, he was surely a reward unto 
 himself. He would calmly look into the eyes of a poet 
 and say, " Yes, I read your poem. Do you expect to 
 keep on attempting to write poetry ? But you may 
 think better of it after a while. I wrote poems when I 
 was of your age." He did not hate men because they 
 were wealthy, but he despised the methods that make 
 them rich. His temperament invited a few people to a 
 close friendship with him, and gently warned many to 
 keep a respectful distance. Aggressive and cutting he 
 was, and he often said that death was the best friend of 
 a man who is compelled to write for a living. He 
 wrote a subscription book for a mere pittance, and one 
 of the agents that sold it now lives in a mansion. He 
 regarded present success as nothing to compare with an 
 immortal name in the ages to come. He was born in 
 the country, and his refined nature revolted at his rude 
 surroundings, and ever afterward he held the country 
 in contempt. In .ater years he had regarded himself 
 simply as a man of talent, and when this decision had 
 been reached he thought less of life. If his intellectual 
 character lacked one touch, that touch would have 
 made him a genius. When applied to him the term 
 "gentleman " found Us befitting place. 
 
 Careless observers of men often passed Richmond 
 without taking particular notice of him. He was 
 rather undersized, and was bald, but his head was 
 shapely. He was so sensitive that he often assumed 
 a brusqueness in order not to appear effeminate. His
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 89 
 
 judgment of men was as swift as the sweep of a hawk, 
 and sometimes it was as sure. He had taken so many 
 chances, and had so closely noted that something which 
 we call luck, that he might have been touched a little 
 with superstition, hut his soul was as broad as a prairie, 
 and his mind was as penetrating as a drill ; and a fact 
 must have selected a close hiding-place to escape his 
 search. Sitting in his room, with his plug of black 
 tobacco, he had explored the world. Stanley was 
 amazed at his knowledge of Africa, and Elaine marveled 
 at his acquaintance with political history. 
 
 "We welcome you to our club," McGlenn remarked 
 when Henry had sat down, " out are you sure that this 
 is the club you wanted to join ,' " 
 
 Henry was surprised. "Of course I am. "Why do 
 you ask that question F " 
 
 " Because you are a rich man, and this is the home of 
 modesty." 
 
 Henry reached over and shook hands with him. "I 
 like that," said he, "and let me assure you that you have 
 in one sentence made me feel that I really belong here, 
 not because I am particularly modest, but because your 
 sentiments are my own. I am not a rich man, but 
 even if I were I should prefer this group to the hyphen- 
 ated" 
 
 "Fools," McGlenn suggested. 
 
 "Yes," Henry agreed, "the hyphenated fools that I 
 im compelled to meet. George Witherspoon is a rich 
 /nan, but his money does not belong to me. I didn't 
 help him earn any of it ; I borrowed money from him, 
 And, so soon as I can, I shall return it with interest." 
 
 "John," said Richmond, "you were wrong as you 
 asaally are in asking Mr. Witherspoon that question,
 
 90 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 but in view of the fact that yon enabled him to put him- 
 self so agreeably on record, we will excuse your lack, of 
 courtesy." 
 
 " I don't permit any man who goes fishing with any 
 sort of ignorant lout, and who spends a whole day in a boat 
 with him, to tell me when I am lacking in courtesy." 
 
 Richmond laughed, put his hand to his mouth, threw 
 back his head and replied : " I go fishing, not for soci- 
 ety, but for amusement ; and, by the way, I think it 
 would do you good to go fishing, even with an ignorant 
 lout. You might learn something." 
 
 "Ah," McGlenn .rejoined, "you have disclosed the 
 source of much of your information. You learn f*om 
 the ignorant that you may confound the wise." 
 
 Richmond put his hand to his mouth. "At some 
 playful time," said he, "I might seek to confound the 
 wise, but I should never so far forget myself as to make 
 an experiment on you." 
 
 "Mr. Witherspoon," remarked McGlenn, "we will 
 turn from this rude barbarian and give our attention to 
 Mr. Whittlesy, who knows all about dogs." 
 
 "If he knows all about dogs," Henry replied, "he 
 must be well acquainted with some of the most promi- 
 nent traits of man." 
 
 "I am not talking much to-day," said Whittlesy, 
 ducking his head. " I went fooling round the Board of 
 Trade yesterday; and they got me, and they got me 
 good." 
 
 " How much did they catch you for, Whit ? " McGlenn 
 asked. 
 
 " I won't say, but they got me, and got me good, but 
 never mind. I'll go after 'em." 
 
 The man who had been asleep on the leather lounge
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 91 
 
 got up, stretched himself, looked about for a moment, 
 and then, coming over to the group, said : " What's all 
 this bloody rot ? " Seeing a stranger, he added, by way 
 of apology : " I thought this was the regular roasting 
 lay-out." 
 
 "Mr. Witherspoon," said Richmond, "let me intro- 
 duce Mr. Mortimer, an old member of the club ; " and 
 when the introduction had been acknowledged, Rich- 
 "taond added : " Mortimer has just thought of some- 
 thing mean to say and has come over to say it. He 
 dozes himself full of venom and then has to get rid 
 of it." 
 
 " Our friend Richmond is about as truthful as he is 
 complimentary," Mortimer replied. 
 
 "Yes," said Richmond, "but if I were no more com- 
 plimentary than you are truthful, I should have a slam 
 for eferybody." 
 
 "Oh, ho, ho, no," McGlenn cried, and Richmond 
 shouted : " Oh, I have been robbed. " 
 
 Henry looked about for the cause of this commotion 
 and saw a smiling man, portly and impressive, coming 
 toward them with a dignified mince in his walk. And 
 Mr. Flummers was introduced with half-humorous cere- 
 mony. He had rather a pleasant expression of coun- 
 tenance, and men who were well acquainted with him 
 said that he had, though not so long of arm, an exten- 
 sive reach for whisky. He was of impressive size, with 
 a sort of Napoleonic head ; and when hot on the trail 
 of a drink, his voice held a most unctuous solicitude. 
 He was exceedingly annoying to some people and was n 
 source of constant delight to others. At one time he 
 had formed the habit of being robbed, and later on he 
 was drugged ; but no one could conjecture what he
 
 92 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 would next add to his repertory. His troubles were 
 amusing, his difficulties were humorous, his failures 
 were laughable, and his sorrows were the cause for jest. 
 He had a growing paunch, and when he stood he leaned 
 back slightly as though his rotund front found ease in 
 exhibition. As a law student he had aimed a severe 
 blow at justice, and failing as an attorney, he had 
 served his country a good turn. As a reporter he wrote 
 with a torch, and wrote well. All his utterances 
 were declamatory ; and he had a set of scallopy gestures 
 that were far beyond the successful mimicry of his fel- 
 lows. The less he thought the more wisely he talked. 
 Meditation hampered him, and like a rabbit, he was 
 generally at his best when he first "jumped up." 
 
 He shook hands with Henry, looked at him a moment 
 and asked : " Are you going to run a newspaper with all 
 those old geysers you've got over there ? " 
 
 The new member winced. 
 
 "Don't pay any attention to Flummers," John Rich- 
 mond said. 
 
 " Oh, yes," Flummers insisted. " You see, I know all 
 those fellows. Some of them were worn out ten years 
 ago but say, are you paying anything over there ?" 
 
 "Yes, paying as much as any paper in the town." 
 
 " That's the stuff ; but say, you can afford it. Who 
 rang the bell ? Did anybody ring ? Boy," (speaking 
 to a waiter), "we ought to have something to drink 
 here." 
 
 " Do you want to pay for it ? " Richmond asked. 
 
 " Oh, ho, ho, no, I'm busted. I've set 'em up two or 
 ^bree times to-day." 
 
 " Why, you stuffed buffalo robe, you " 
 
 "Oh, well, it was the other day, then. I'm all the
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 93 
 
 time buying the drinks. If it weren't for me you 
 geysers would dry up. Say, John, touch the bell." 
 
 "Wait," said Henry. "Have something with me." 
 
 " Ah, now you command the respect of the common- 
 wealth!" Flummers cried. "By one heroic act you 
 prove that your life is not a failure. These fellows 
 round here make me tired. Boy, bring me a little 
 whisky. What are you fellows going to take ? What ! 
 you want a cigar ? " he added, speaking to Henry. 
 "Oh, I had a great man on my staff yesterday big 
 railroad man. Do you know that some of those fellows 
 like to have a man show them how to spend their 
 money ? I see Fm posted for dues. This municipality 
 must think Fm made of money." 
 
 When he caught sight of the boy coming with the 
 tray, a peculiar light, such as painters give the face of 
 Hope, illumined his countenance, and clasping his 
 hands, he unctuously greeted himself. 
 
 "Mr. Flummers," said McGlenn, "we all love you." 
 
 "Oh, no." 
 
 " Yes ; it is disreputable, but we love you. It was a 
 long time before I discovered your beauties. I used to 
 think that the men who loved you were the enemies of 
 a higher grade of life, and perhaps they 'were, but I love 
 you. You are a great man, Mr. Flummers. Nature 
 designed you to be the president of a life insurance 
 company." 
 
 "Well, say, I know that." 
 
 "Yes," continued McGlenn. "A life insurance com- 
 pany ought to employ you as a great joss, and charge 
 people for the privilege of a mere glimpse of you." 
 
 "I shouldn't think," said Richmond, "that a man 
 who had committed murder in Nebraska would be so
 
 94 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 extreme as to pose as the president of a life insurance 
 company." 
 
 "Mr. Flummers, did yon commit a murder in Ne- 
 braska ? " McGlenn asked. 
 
 "Oh, no." 
 
 " But didn't yon confess that you killed a man there ? " 
 Richmond urged. 
 
 "Oh, well, that was a mistake." 
 
 " What ? The confession ? " 
 
 " No, the killing. You see, I was out of work, and 
 I struck a doctor for a job in his drug-store; and once, 
 when the doctor was away, an old fellow sent over to 
 have a prescription filled, and I filled it. And when the 
 doctor returned he saw the funeral procession going 
 past the store. He asked me what it meant, and I told 
 him." 
 
 "Then what did he say?" 
 
 " He asked me if I got pay for the prescription. Oh, 
 but he was a thrifty man ! " Flummers clasped his 
 hands, threw himself back and laughed with a jolting 
 "he, he, he." "Well, I've got to go. Did anybody 
 ring ? Say, John " to Richmond " why don't you 
 buy something ? " 
 
 " What ? Oh, you gulp, you succession of swallows, 
 you human sink-hole ! Flummers, I have bought you 
 whisky enough to overflow the Mississippi." 
 
 " Oh, ho, ho, but not to-day, John. Past whisky is 
 a scandal ; in present whisky there lies a virtue. Never 
 tell a man what you have done, John, lest he may think 
 you boastful, but show him what you will do now, so 
 that he may have the proof of your ability. Is it pos- 
 sible that I've got to shake you fellows ? My time is
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 95 
 
 too valuable to waste even with a mere contemplation 
 of your riotous living." 
 
 He walked away with his mincing step. " There's a 
 character," said Henry, looking after him. "He is 
 positively restful." 
 
 "Until he wants a drink, ""Mortimer replied, ''and 
 then he is restless. Well, I must follow his example of 
 withdrawal, if not his precept of appetite. 1 am 
 pleased to have met you, Mr. Witherspoon, and I hope 
 to see you often." 
 
 " I think you shall, as I intend to make this my rest- 
 ing-place." 
 
 " There is another character," said McGlenn, refer- 
 ring to Mortimer. "He is a very learned man, sc 
 much so that he has no need of imagination. He is a 
 very learned man." 
 
 " And he is charmed with the prospect of saying a 
 mean thing," Richmond replied. "I tell him so," he 
 added, " though that is needless, for he knows it him- 
 self. His mind has traveled over a large scope of 
 intellectual territory, and he commands my respect 
 while I object to his methods." 
 
 The conversation took a serious turn, and Richmond 
 flooded it with his learning. His voice was low and his 
 manner modest a great man who in the game of 
 human affairs played below the limit of his abilities. 
 McGlenn roused himself. When emphatic, he had a 
 way of turning out his thumb and slowly hammering 
 his knee with his fist. In his sky there was a cloud of 
 pessimism, but the brightness of his speech threw a 
 rainbow across it. He was a poet in the garb of a 
 Diogenes. Many of his theories were wrong, but all
 
 36 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 striking. Sometimes his sentences flashed like a 
 scythe swinging in the sunshine. 
 
 Henry talked as he had never found occasion to talk 
 before. These men inspired him, and in acknowledg- 
 ment of this he said : " We may for years carry in our 
 minds a sort of mist that we cannot shape into an idea. 
 Suddenly we meet a man, and he speaks the word of 
 life unto that mist, and instantly it becomes a thought." 
 
 Other members joined the group, and the conversa- 
 tion broke and flew into sharp fragments. McGleim 
 and Richmond began to wrangle. 
 
 "Your children may not read my books," said Mc- 
 Glenn, replying to some assertion that Richmond had 
 made, "but your great-grandchildren will." 
 
 "Oh, that's possible," Richmond rejoined. "I can 
 defend my immediate offspring, while my descendants 
 may be left without protection. If you would tear the 
 didacticism out of your books and inject a little more 
 of the juice of human interest hold on !" Richmond 
 threw up his arm, as though warding off a blow. " When 
 that double line comes between his eyes I always feel 
 that he is going to hit me." 
 
 "I wouldn't hit you. I have some pity left.',' 
 
 " Or fear which is it ? " 
 
 "Not fear; pity." 
 
 " Why don't you reserve some of it for your readers ? " 
 
 McGlenn frowned. " I don't expect you to like my 
 books." 
 
 " Oh, you have realized the fact that the characters 
 are wooden ? " 
 
 " No, but I have realized that they are beyond your 
 feeble grasp. I don't want you to like my books." He 
 hammered his knee. " The book that wins your regard
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 97 
 
 is an exceedingly bad production. When you search 
 for facts you may sometimes go to high sources, but 
 when you read fiction you go to the dogs. A consistent 
 character in fiction is beyond you." 
 
 "There are no consistent characters in life," said 
 Richmond, "and a consistent character in fiction is 
 merely a strained form of art. In life the most arrant 
 coward will sometimes fight ; the bravest man at times 
 lacks nerve ; the generous man may sometimes show the 
 spirit of the niggard. But your character in fiction is 
 different. He must be always brave, or always generous, 
 or always niggardly. He must be consistent, and con- 
 sistency is not life." 
 
 " But inconsistency is life, and you are, therefore, not 
 dead," McGlenn replied. "If inconsistency were a 
 jewel," he added, "you would be a cluster of brilliants. 
 As it is, you are an intellectual fault-finder and a phys- 
 ical hypochondriac." 
 
 "And you are an intellectual cartoon and a physical 
 mistake." 
 
 "I won't talk to you. Even the semblance of a 
 gentleman commands my respect, but I can't respect 
 you. I like truth, but " 
 
 " Is that the reason you seek me ? " 
 
 "No, it is the reason I avoid you. Brutal prejudice 
 never held a truth." 
 
 "Not when it shook hands with you," Richmond re- 
 plied. 
 
 McGlenn got up, walked over to the piano, came 
 back, looked at his watch, and addressing Richmond, 
 asked: 
 
 " Are you going home, John ? " 
 
 " Yes, John. Suppose we walk." 
 
 7
 
 98 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 "Ill go you ; come on." 
 
 They bade Henry good evening and together walked 
 off affectionately. 
 
 " What do you think of our new friend ? " Eichmond 
 asked as they strolled along. 
 
 "John, he has suffered. He is a great man." 
 
 "I don't know how he may turn out," Eichmond 
 said, " but I rather like hint. Of course he hasn't fitted 
 himself to his position that is, he doesn't as yet feel 
 the force of old Witherspoon's money. His experience 
 has gone far toward making a man of him, but his 
 changed condition may after a while throw his past 
 struggles into contempt and thereby corrode his manli- 
 ness." 
 
 " I don't think that he scraped up his principles from 
 the Witherspoon side of the house," McGlenn declared. 
 " If he had, we should at once have discovered in him 
 the unmistakable trace of the hog. Oh, I don't think 
 he will stay in the club very long. His tendency will 
 be to drift away. All rich men are the enemies of 
 democracy. If they pretend that they are not, they are 
 hypocrites ; if they believe they are not, it is because 
 they haven't come to a correct understanding of them- 
 selves. The meanest difference that can exist between 
 men is the difference that money makes. There is 
 some compassion in an intellectual difference, and even 
 in a difference of birth there is some little atonement to 
 be expected, but a moneyed difference is stiff with 
 unyielding brutality." 
 
 In this opinion they struck a sort of agreement, but 
 they soon fell apart, and they wrangled until they 
 reached a place where their pathway split. They
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 99 
 
 halted for a moment; they had been fierce in argument. 
 Now they were calm. 
 
 " Can't yon come over to-night, John ? " McGlenn 
 asked. 
 
 " No, I can't possibly come to-night, John. I've got 
 a piece of work on hand and must get it off. I've 
 neglected it too long already." 
 
 But he did go over that night, and he wrangled with 
 McGlenn until twelve o'clock.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 BUTTIXG AGAINST A WALL. 
 
 WHEN we have become familiar with an environ- 
 ment we sometimes wonder why at any time it 
 should have appeared strange to us ; and it was thus 
 with Henry as the months moved along. The mansion 
 in Prairie Avenue was now home-like to him, and the 
 contrasts which its luxurious belongings were wont to 
 summon were now less sharp and were dismissed with a 
 growing easiness. Feeling the force which position 
 urges, he worked without worry, and conscious of a 
 certain ability, he did not question the success of his 
 plans. But how much of the future did he intend these 
 plans to cover ? He turned from this troublesome 
 uncertainty and found satisfaction in that state of mind 
 which permits one day to forecast the day which is to 
 follow, and on a futurity stretching further than this 
 he resolutely turned his back. In his work and in his 
 rest at the Press Club, whither he went every afternoon, 
 he found his keenest pleasure. He was also fond of the 
 theator, not to sit with a box party, but to loiter with 
 Richmond to enjoy the natural, to growl at the 
 tame, and to leave the place whenever a tiresome 
 dialogue came on. Ellen sometimes drew him into 
 society, and on Sundays he usually went with Mrs. 
 Witherspoon to a Congregational church where a 
 preacher who had taught his countenance the artifice of
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 101 
 
 a severe solemnity denounced the money-chasing spirit 
 of the age at about double the price that he had 
 received in the East. 
 
 The Witherspoons had much company and they en- 
 tertained generously, though not with a showy lavish- 
 ness, for the old man had a quick eye for the appear- 
 ance of waste. It was noticeable, too, that since Henry 
 came young women who were counted as Ellen's friends 
 were more frequent with their visits. Witherspoon 
 rarely laughed at anything, but he laughed at this. His 
 wife, however, discovered in it no cause for mirth. A 
 mother may plan the marriage of her daughter, for that 
 is romantic, but she looks with an anxious eye upon the 
 marriage of her son, for that is serious. 
 
 One evening, when Witherspoon and Henry had gone 
 into the library to smoke, the merchant remarked : " I 
 want to talk to you about the course of your paper." 
 
 "All right, sir." 
 
 The merchant stood on the hearth-rug. He lighted 
 his cigar, turned it round and round, and then said : 
 
 "Brooks called my attention this afternoon to an 
 article on working girls. Does it meet with your 
 approval ?" 
 
 " Why, yes. It was a special assignment, and I gave 
 it out." 
 
 " Hum ! " Witherspoon grunted. He sat down in his 
 leather-covered chair, crossed his legs, struck a match 
 on the sole of his slipper, relighted his cigar, which he 
 had suffered to go out, and for a time smoked in 
 silence. 
 
 " Is there anything wrong about it ? " Henry asked. 
 
 " I might ask you if there is anything right about 
 it," Witherspoon replied. " ' The poor ye have with
 
 102 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 yon always/ was uttered by the Son of God. It was not 
 only a prophecy, bnt a truth for all ages. There are 
 grades in life, and who made them ? Man. Ah, but 
 who made man ? God. Then who is responsible for the 
 grades ? Nature sets the example of inequality. One 
 tree is higher than another." His cigar had gone out. 
 He lighted it again and continued : " "Writers who seek 
 to benefit the poor often injure them teach them a 
 dissatisfaction which in its turn brings a sort of reprisal 
 on the part of capital." 
 
 "I don't agree with you," said Henry. 
 
 "Of course not." 
 
 "I have cause to know that you are wrong, sir." 
 
 "You think you have," the merchant replied. 
 
 "It is true," Henry admitted, "that we shall always 
 have the poor with us." 
 
 "I thought so," said Witherspoon. 
 
 " But it is not true that an attempt to aid them is 
 harmful. Their condition has steadily improved since 
 history " 
 
 "You are a sentimentalist." 
 
 "I am more than that," said Henry. "I am a man." 
 
 " Hum ! And are you more than that ? " 
 
 " How could I be more ? " 
 
 "Easily enough. You could be an anarchist." 
 
 " And is that a step higher ? " 
 
 "Wolves think so." 
 
 "But I don't." 
 
 "I hope not." 
 
 They sat in silence. The young man was angry, but 
 he controlled himself. 
 
 " It is easy to scatter dangerous words in this town," 
 said the merchant. "And, sir," he broke off, rousing
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 103 
 
 himself, "look at the inconsistency, the ridiculousness 
 of your position. I employ more than a thousand peo- 
 ple ; my son says that I oppress them. I " 
 
 " Hold on ; I didn't say that. I don't know of any 
 injustice that you inflict upon your employes ; but I do 
 know of such wrongs committed by other men. But 
 you have shown me that the condition of those creatures 
 is hopeless." 
 
 " What creatures ? " 
 
 "Women who work for a living." 
 
 " And do you know the cause of their hopelessness ? " 
 
 "Yes ; poverty and oppression." 
 
 " Ah, but what is the cause of their poverty ? " 
 
 "The greed of man." 
 
 "Oh, no; the appetite of man whisky. Nine out 
 of ten of those so-called wretched creatures can trace 
 their wretchedness to drink." 
 
 "But it is not their fault." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 Henry was stunned. He saw what a wall he was but- 
 ting against. " And is this to go on forever ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " Yes, forever. ' The poor ye have with you always/ " 
 
 "But present conditions may be overturned." 
 
 "Possibly, but other conditions just as bad, or even 
 worse, will build on the ruins. That is the history you 
 spoke of just now." 
 
 "But slavery was swept away and, let me affirm," 
 he suddenly broke off, " that the condition of the poorer 
 people in this town is worse than the slavery that existed 
 in the South. From that slavery the government 
 pointed toward freedom, and mill-owners in the North 
 applauded men, too, mind you, who were the hardest
 
 104 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 of masters. I can bring up now the picture of a green 
 lane. I can see an old negro woman sweeping the door- 
 yard of her cabin, and she sings a song. Her husband is 
 at work in the field, and her happy children are fishing 
 in the bayou. That is the freedom which the govern- 
 ment pointed out the freedom which a God-inspired 
 Lincoln proclaimed. But do you hear any glad songs 
 among the slaves in the North ? Let me tell you, sir, 
 that we are confronted with a problem that is more 
 serious than that which was solved by Lincoln." 
 
 Witherspoon looked at him as though he could think 
 of no reply. At one moment he seemed to be filling up 
 with the gathering impulses of anger; at another he 
 appeared to be humiliated. 
 
 "Are you my son ?" he asked. 
 
 "Presumably. An impostor would yield to your 
 demands ; he would win your confidence that he might 
 steal your money." 
 
 "Yes," said the merchant, and he sat in silence. 
 
 Henry was the first to speak. "If you were poor, 
 and with the same intelligence you have now, what 
 would you advise the poor man to do ? " 
 
 " I should advise him to do as I did when I was poor 
 and as I do now work. Now, let me tell you some- 
 thing : Last year your mother and I gave away a great 
 deal of money we do so every year. Does that look 
 as if I am grinding the poor ? You have hurt me." 
 
 " I am sorry. But if I have Imrt you with a truth, 
 it should make you think." 
 
 Witherspoon looked at him, and this time it was 
 with resentment. " What ! you talk about making me 
 think ? Young man, you don't know what it is to 
 think. You are confounded with the difference
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 105 
 
 between sentimentalism and thought. Yon go ahead 
 and print your newspaper and don't worry about the 
 workingwoman. Her class will be larger and worse off, 
 probably, a hundred years after you are dead." 
 
 " Yes, but before that time her class may rise up and 
 sweep everything before it. A democracy can't long 
 permit a few men to hold all the wealth. But there's 
 no good to come from a discussion with you." 
 
 "You are right," said Witherspoon, "but hold on a 
 moment. Don't go away believing that I have no 
 sympathy for the poor. I have, but I haven't time to 
 worry with it. There is no reason why any man should 
 be poor in this country. " 
 
 Henry thought of a hundred things to say, but 
 said nothing. He knew that it was useless ; he knew 
 that this man's strength had blinded him to the weak- 
 ness of other men, and he felt that American aristoc- 
 racy was the most grinding of all aristocracies, for the 
 reason that a man's failure to reach its grade was attrib- 
 utable to himself alone.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A. DIFFERENT HANDWRITING. 
 
 HENRY bade Witherspoon good night and went to 
 his room. A fire was burning in the grate. At 
 the window there was a rattle of sleet. He lighted his 
 old briar-root pipe and sat down. He had, as usual, 
 ceased to argue with himself ; he simply mused. He 
 acknowledged his weakness, and sought a counteracting 
 strength, but found none. But why should he, fight 
 against good fortune ? It was not his fault that cer- 
 tain conditions existed. Why not starve the past and 
 feed the present ? But he had begun to argue, and he 
 shook himself as though he would be freed from some- 
 thing that had taken hold of him, and he got up and 
 stood at the window. How raw the night ! And as 
 he stood there, he fancied that the darkness and the 
 sleet of his boyhood were trying to force their way into 
 the warmth and the light of his new inheritance. He 
 turned suddenly about, and bowing with mock polite- 
 ness, said to himself : " You are a fool. " He lighted 
 his pipe afresh, and sat down to work. Some one 
 tapped at the door. Was it Witherspoon come to de- 
 liver another argument, and to decide again in his own 
 favor ? No, it was Ellen. She had been at the theater. 
 
 "You bring roses out of the storm," said Henry, in 
 allusion to the color of her cheeks. 
 
 " But I don't bring flattery. Gracious ! I am chilled 
 through. " She took off her gloves and held her hands 
 
 106
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 107 
 
 over the grate. " Everybody's gone to bed, and I didn't 
 know but you might be here, scribbling. Goodness, 
 what's that you've been smoking ? " 
 
 "A pipe." 
 
 She turned from the fire and shrugged her shoulders. 
 " Couldn't you get a cigar ? Why do you smoke that 
 awful thing ? " 
 
 " It is an altar of the past, and on it I burn the mem- 
 ories of its day," he answered, smiling. 
 
 " Well, I think I would get a new altar and burn 
 incense for the present ! Oh, but I've had the stupidest 
 evening." 
 
 " Wasn't the play good ? " 
 
 " No, it was talk, talk, with a stress laid on nothing. 
 And then my escort wasn't particularly entertaining." 
 
 "Who?"" 
 
 " Oh, a Mr. Somebody. What have you been doing 
 all the evening ? " 
 
 " Something that I found to be worse than useless. 
 Father and I have been locking horns over the not 
 exactly the labor question, but over the wretchedness of 
 workingwomen. " 
 
 " What do you know about the wretchedness of work- 
 ingwomen ? " she asked. 
 
 " What do I know about it ? What can I help know- 
 ing about it ? How can I shut my eyes against it ? " 
 
 " I don't see why they are so very wretched. They 
 get pay, I'm sure. Somebody has to work ; somebody 
 has to be poor. What are you writing ? " 
 
 "The necessary rot of an editorial page," he 
 answered . 
 
 "Why, how your handwriting has changed,'* ahe 
 said, leaning over the table.
 
 108 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " Why, this is so different from the letters yon wrote 
 before you came home." 
 
 He did not reply immediately ; he was thinking. 
 "Pens in that country cut queer capers," he said. 
 " "Where are those letters, anyway ? " 
 
 "Mother has put them away somewhere." 
 
 "I should like to see them again." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Oh, on account of the memories they hold. Get 
 them for me, and I will give you a description of my 
 surroundings at the time I wrote them." 
 
 " Why, what a funny fellow you are ! Can't you give 
 me a description anyway ?" 
 
 "No, not a good one." 
 
 " But I don't want to wake mother, and I don't know 
 that I can find the letters." 
 
 "Go and see." 
 
 " Oh, you are so headstrong." 
 
 She went out, and he walked up and down the room, 
 and then stood again at the window. Ellen returned. 
 
 " Here they are. " 
 
 " Did you wake mother ? " 
 
 "No, but I committed burglary. I found the key 
 and unlocked her trunk, and all to please you." 
 
 "Good, and for the first time burglary shall be repaid 
 with gratitude." 
 
 He took the letters and looked at the sprawling char- 
 acters drawn by the hand of his friend. "When I 
 copied this confession," said he, "I was heavy of heart. 
 I was sitting in a small room, looking far down into a 
 valley where nature seemed to keep her darkness stored,
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 109 
 
 and from another window, in the east, I could see a 
 mountain where she made her light." 
 
 " Go on/' she said, leaning with her elbows on the 
 table. 
 
 He began to walk across the room, from the door to 
 the grate, and to talk as one delivering a set oration. 
 " And I had just finished my work when a most annoy- 
 ing monkey, owned by the landlord, jumped through 
 the window. I was so startled that I threw the folded 
 papers at him " 
 
 ' What have you done ! " she cried. 
 
 He had thrown the letters into the fire. He sprang 
 forward, and snatching them, threw them on the hearth 
 and stamped out the blaze. 
 
 "Oh, I do wish you, hadn't done that," she said, 
 hoarse with alarm. " Mother reads these letters every 
 clay, and oh, I do wish you hadn't done it ! They 
 are all scorched ruined, and I wouldn't have her 
 know that I took them out of her trunk for anything. 
 AVhat shall we do about it ? Oh, I know you didn't 
 mean to do it." He had looked appealingly at her. 
 "I wish I hadn't got them." 
 
 " It is only the copy of the confession that is badly 
 burned. The original is here on the table," he said. 
 
 " I know, but what good will that do ? The letters 
 are so scorched that it won't do to return them." 
 
 "But I can copy them," he replied. 
 
 " Oh, you genius ! " she exclaimed, clapping her hands. 
 
 "Thank you," he said, bowing. Then he added: 
 " Let me see this paper won't do. Where can we get 
 some fool's-cap ? " 
 
 " There must be some in the library," she answered. 
 "I'll slip down and see."
 
 UO THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 She hastened down-stairs and soon returned with the 
 paper. " I feel like a burglar," she said. 
 
 "And I am a forger," he replied. 
 
 " Won't take you long, will it ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 The work was soon completed. The scorched letters 
 were thrown into the fire. " She will never know the 
 difference," said Ellen. "It is a sin to deceive her, but 
 then, following the burglary, deception is a kindness ; 
 and there can't be so very much wickedness in a sin 
 that keeps one from being unhappy." 
 
 "Or keeps one from being discovered," he suggested. 
 6he laughed, not mirthfully, but with an attempt at 
 self -consolation. "This is our first secret," she said, as 
 she opened the door. 
 
 "And I think you will keep it," he replied, smiling 
 at her. 
 
 She looked at him for a moment and rejoined: 
 " Indeed, fellow-criminal ! And if you didn't smoke 
 that horrid pipe, what a lovable convict you would 
 make." 
 
 When she was gone he stood again at the window. 
 The night was breathing hard. He spoke to himself 
 with mock concern : " Two hours ago you were simply 
 a fool, but now you are a scoundrel."
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 TOLD HIM HER STOET. 
 
 WHEN he awoke the next morning his blood seemed 
 to be clogged somewhere far from the seat of 
 thought, and then it came with a leap that brought 
 back the night before. "But I won't argue with you," 
 he said, turning over. "Argue," he repeated. "Why, 
 it's past argument now. I will simply do the best I can 
 and let the worst take care of itself. But I do despise 
 a vacillator, and I am one. The old man may be right. 
 Nature admires strength and never pities the weak. 
 And what am I to do if I'm not to carry out my part of 
 this programme ? The trial is over," he said as he got 
 up. "I am Henry Witherspoon." 
 
 He was busy in his room at the office when Brooks 
 entered. 
 
 "Well, hard at it, I see." 
 
 " Yes. Sit down ; I'll be through with this in a 
 moment." 
 
 He sat himself back from the desk, and Brooks 
 asked, " Can't you go out to lunch with me ? " 
 
 "Isn't time yet." 
 
 "Hardly, that's so," Brooks admitted, looking at his 
 watch. " I happened to have business in this neighbor- 
 hood and thought I'd drop in. Say," he added in a 
 lower tone, and nodding his head toward the door of 
 the adjoining room, " who is she ? "
 
 112 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 "The literary reviewer." 
 
 " She's a stunner. What's her name ? " 
 
 "Miss Drury." 
 
 "You might introduce me." 
 
 "She's busy." 
 
 "Probably she'd go to lunch with us." 
 
 "She refuses to go out with any one." 
 
 " Hasn't been here long, eh ? " That was the floor- 
 walker's idea. " Well, I must get back, if you can't go 
 with me. So long." 
 
 Henry took a book into Miss Drury's room. " Here's 
 something that was sent to me personally," said he, 
 "but treat it as you think it deserves." 
 
 She looked up with a suggestion of a smile. "Are 
 you willing to trust the reputation of your friends to 
 me ? " she asked. 
 
 " I am at least willing to let you take charge of their 
 vanity." 
 
 " Oh, am I so good a keeper of vanity ? " 
 
 "No, you are so gentle an exterminator of it." 
 
 "Thank you," she said, laughing. Her hair seemed 
 ready to break from its fastenings, and she gave it 
 those deft touches of security which are mysterious to 
 man, but which a little girl practices on a doll. 
 
 "You have wonderful hair," he said. 
 
 And she answered : "I'm going to cut it off." 
 
 This is woman's almost invariable reply to such a 
 compliment. Henry knew that she would say it, and 
 she knew that she would not cut it off, and they both 
 laughed. 
 
 " How did you happen to get into newspaper work ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 Her face became serious. "I had to do something,"
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 113 
 
 she answered, " and I couldn't do anything else. My 
 mother was an invalid for ten years, and I nursed her, 
 read to her day and night. Sometimes in the winter 
 she couldn't sleep, and I would get up and amuse her by 
 writing reviews of the books I had read. It was only 
 play, but after she was dead I thought that I might 
 make it earnest." 
 
 " And your father died when you were very young, I 
 suppose." 
 
 She looked away, and with both hands she began to 
 touch her hair again. "Yes," she said. 
 
 "Tell me about him." 
 
 "Why about him?" 
 
 " I don't know. Because you have told me about your 
 mother, I suppose." 
 
 " And are you so much interested in me ? " she asked, 
 looking earnestly at him. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I ought not to tell you, but I will. "We lived in the 
 
 country. My father was " She looked about her 
 
 and then at him. " My father was a drunkard, but my 
 mother loved him devotedly. One day he went to the 
 village, several miles away, and at evening he didn't 
 come home, and my mother knew the cause. It was a 
 cold, snowy night. Mother stood at the gate, holding a 
 lantern. She wouldn't let me stand there with her, it was 
 so cold, but I was on my knees in a chair at the win- 
 dow, and I could see her. She stood there so long, and 
 it seemed so cruel that I should be in a warm room 
 while she was out in the cold, that I slipped out and 
 closed the door softly after me. I stood a short dis- 
 tance behind her, and I had not been standing there 
 long when a horse, covered with snow, came stumbling
 
 114 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 out of the darkness. Mother called me, and I ran to 
 her. We went down the road, holding the lantern first 
 one side, then the other, that we might see into the cor- 
 ners of the fences. We found him lying dead in the 
 road, covered with snow. Mother was never well after 
 that night but really I am neglecting my work." 
 
 He returned to his desk. The proof-sheets of a lead- 
 ing article were brought to him, but he sat gazing at 
 naught that he could see. 
 
 " Are you done with those proofs ? " some one asked. 
 
 "Take them away," he said, without looking up. He 
 sat for a long time, musing, and then he shook himself, 
 a habit which he had lately formed in trying to free 
 himself from meditations that sought to possess him. 
 
 He went out to luncheon, and just as he was going 
 into a restaurant some one spoke to him. It was old 
 man Colton. 
 
 "My dear Mr. Witherspoon," said the old man, 
 " come and have a bite to eat with me. Ah, come on, 
 now ; no excuse. Let's go this way. I know of a 
 place that will just suit you. This way. I'm no hand 
 for clubs they bore me ; they are newfangled." 
 
 The old man conducted him into a basement restau- 
 rant not noticeable for cleanliness, but strong with a 
 smell of mutton. 
 
 "Now, suppose we try a little broth-," said the old 
 man, when they had sat down. " Two bowls of mutton 
 broth," he added, speaking to the waiter. "Ah," he 
 went on, "you may talk about your dishes, but at noon- 
 time there is nothing that can touch broth. And 
 besides," he added, in a whisper, "there's no robbery in 
 broth. These restaurant fellows are skinners of the 
 worst order. I'll tell you, my dear Mr.
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 115 
 
 everything teaches us to practice economy. We must 
 do it ; it's the saving clanse of life. Now, what could 
 be better than this ? Go back to work, and your head's 
 clear. My dear Mr. Witherspoon, if I had been a spend- 
 thrift, I should not only be a pauper I should have 
 been dead long ago." 
 
 He continued to talk on the virtues of economy. 
 " Won't you have some more broth ? " 
 
 "No, thank you." 
 
 " Won't you have something else ? " he asked, in a 
 tone that implied extreme fear. 
 
 "No, I'm not hungry to-day." 
 
 This announcement appeared greatly to relieve the 
 old man. "Oh, you'll succeed in life, my dear young 
 man ; but really you ought to come into the store with 
 us. It would do your father so much good ; he would 
 feel that he has a sure hold on the future, you under- 
 stand. You don't know what a comfort Brooks is to 
 me. Why, if my daughter had married a man in any 
 other line, I well, it would have been a great disap- 
 pointment. Are you going back to work now ? " 
 
 "No; to the Press Club." 
 
 " Why don't you come to see us of tener ? " 
 
 " Oh, I'm there often enough, I should think two 
 or three times a week." 
 
 " Yes, of course, but we are all so anxious that you 
 should become interested in our work. Don't dis- 
 courage yourself with the belief that a man brought up 
 in the South is not a good business man. I am from the 
 South, my dear Mr. Witherspoon." 
 
 They had reached the sidewalk, and the roar from 
 the street impelled the old man to force his squeaky 
 voice into a split shout,
 
 116 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 " Southern man " He was bumped off by the 
 
 passing throng, but he got back again and shouted : 
 " Southern man has just as good commercial ability as 
 anybody. Well, I must leave you here."
 
 CHAPTEK XVI. 
 
 AN AKOUSER OF THE SLEEPY. 
 
 IN the Press Club Henry found Mr. Flummers 
 haranguing a party of men who sat about the round 
 table. He stood that he might have room in which to 
 scallop his gestures, and he had reached a climax just 
 as Henry joined the circle. He waited until all inter- 
 ruptions had ceased and then continued : "Milwaukee 
 was asleep, and I was sent up there to arouse it. But 
 I shook it too hard ; I hadn't correctly measured my 
 own strength. The old-timers said, ' Let us doze,' 
 but I commanded, ' Wake up here now, and get a move 
 on you,' and they had to wake up. But they formu- 
 lated a conspiracy against me, and I was removed." 
 
 " How were you removed, Mr. Flummers ? " McGlenn 
 asked. 
 
 " Oh, a petition, signed by a thousand sleepy citizens, 
 was sent down here to my managing editor, and I was 
 requested to come away. Thus was my Milwaukee career 
 ended, but it ended in a blaze that dazzled the eyes of 
 the old-timers." He cut a scallop. " But papa was not 
 long idle. The solid South wanted him. They knew 
 that papa was the man to quiet a disturbance or compel 
 a drowsy municipality to get up and rub its eyes. Well, 
 I went to Memphis. What was the cause of the great 
 excitement that followed ? " He tapped his forehead. 
 " Papa's nut. But again had he underestimated him-
 
 118 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 self ; again was he too strong for the occasion. He 
 tossed up the community in his little blanket, and while 
 it was still in the air, papa skipped, and the railroad 
 train didn't go any too fast for him." 
 
 " And was that the time you went over into Arkansas 
 and murdered a man ? " Richmond asked. 
 
 " Oh, no ; you are mixing ancient history with recent 
 events. But say, John, you haven't bought anything 
 to-day." 
 
 " Why, you paunch-bulging liar, I bought you a drink 
 not more than ten minutes ago." 
 
 "But you owed me that one." 
 
 "Get out, you nerveless beef ! Under the old law for 
 debt I could put you in prison for life." 
 
 "Oh, no." 
 
 " Do you really need a drink, Mr. Flnmmers ? " 
 McGlenn asked. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And you don't think that there is any mistake 
 about it ? " 
 
 No." 
 
 " Well, then, as one who has been compelled to love 
 yon, I will buy you a drink." 
 
 " Good stuff. Say, Whit, touch the bell over there, 
 will you ? " 
 
 " Touch it yourself, you lout ! " 
 
 With a profane avowal that he had never struck so 
 lazy a party, Flummers rang the bell, and when the 
 boy appeared, he called with hearty hospitality : " See 
 what the gentlemen will have." 
 
 "Would you like something more ?" Henry asked of 
 Flummers, when the drinks had been served.
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 119 
 
 rt Oh, I've just had one. But wait a minute. Say, boy, 
 bring me a cigar." 
 
 When the cigar was brought, Flummers said, " That's 
 the stuff ! " and a moment later he broke out with, 
 " Say, Witherspoon, why don't you kill the geyser that 
 does the county building for your paper ? " 
 
 "Why so ?" 
 
 " Oh, he flashes his star and calls himself a journalist. 
 What time is it ? I must hustle ; can't stay here and 
 throw away time on you fellows. Say, John " 
 
 Richmond shut him off with : " Don't call me John. 
 A man I'll say man out of courtesy to your outward 
 form a man that hasn't sense enough to lift a bass 
 into a boat is not to be permitted such a familiarity. 
 Out in a boat with him last summer and caught a big 
 bass," Richmond explained to the company, "and 
 brought it up to the side of the boat and told Flummers 
 to lift it in, not thinking at the time that he hadn't 
 sense enough, and he grabbed hold of the line and let 
 the fish get away. It made me sick, and I had a strong 
 fight with myself to keep from drowning him." 
 
 Flummers tapped his forehead. "Papa's nut says, 
 ' Keep your hand out of a fish's mouth.' Oh, I don't 
 want to go fishing with you again. No fun for me to 
 pull a boat and see a man thrash the water. Say, did 
 I take anything on you just now ? " he suddenly broke 
 off, addressing Henry. 
 
 "Yes, but you can have something else." 
 
 " Well, not now. I'll hold it in reserve. In this life 
 it is well to have reserve forces stationed here and 
 there. Who's got a car-ticket ? I've got to go over on 
 the West Side. What, are you all broke ? What sort 
 of a poverty-stricken gang have I struck ? Well, I've
 
 120 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 given you as much of my valuable time as I can spare." 
 
 "I suppose you are getting used to this town/' said 
 Mortimer, when Flummers'was gone. 
 
 "Yes, I am gradually making myself feel at home," 
 Henry answered. 
 
 " You find the weather disagreeable, of course. We 
 do, I know." 
 
 "I think that Chicago is great in spite of its climate," 
 said Henry. 
 
 " If great at all, it is great in spite of a great many 
 absences," McGlenn replied ; " and in these absences it is 
 mean and contemptible. To money it gives worship ; 
 to the song and dance man it pays admiring attention, 
 but to the writer it gives neglect the campaign of 
 silence." 
 
 Eichmond put his hand to his mouth and threw his 
 head back. " The trouble with you, John " 
 
 "There's no trouble with me." 
 
 " Yes, there is, and it is the trouble that comes to all 
 men who form an estimate without having first taken 
 the trouble to think." 
 
 "Gentlemen," said McGlenn, "I wish to call your 
 attention to that remark. John Richmond advising 
 people to think before they form their estimates. John, 
 you are the last man to think before you form an 
 estimate. Within a minute after you meet a man you 
 are prepared to give your estimate of his character; 
 youll give a half-hour's opinion on a minute's acquaint- 
 ance." 
 
 " Some people can't form an opinion of a man after a 
 year's acquaintance with him, but I can. I go by a 
 certain instinct, and when the wrong sort of man rnbs 
 up against me I know it. I don't need to wait until he
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 121 
 
 has worked me before I find out that he is an impostor. 
 But, as I was going to say, the trouble with you is that 
 you forget the difference that exists between new and 
 old cities. A new community worships material things ; 
 and if it pays tribute to an idea, it must be that idea 
 which appeals quickest to the eye to the commoner 
 senses. And in this Chicago is no worse than other 
 raw cities. Fifty years from now " 
 
 "Who wants to live fifty years in this miserable 
 world ? " McGlenn broke in. " There is but one com- 
 munity in which the writer is at ease, and that is the 
 community of death. It is populous; it is crowded 
 with writers, but it holds an easy place for every one. 
 The silence of that community frightens the rich but 
 its democracy pleases the poor." 
 
 " I suppose, then, that you want to die. " 
 
 "I do." 
 
 " But yon didn't want to die yesterday ? " 
 
 " Yes, it was the very time when I should have died 
 I had just eaten a good dinner. You don't know 
 how to eat, John. You stuff yourself, John. Yes, 
 you stuff yourself and think that you have dined. The 
 reason is that you have never taken the trouble to 
 become civilized. It's my misfortune to have friends 
 who can't eat. But some of my friends can eat, and 
 they are therefore great men. Tod Cowles strikes a 
 new dish at a house on the North Side and softens his 
 voice and says, 'Ah hah.' He is a great man, for he 
 knows that he has discovered an additional pleasure to off- 
 set another trouble of this infamous life ; and Colonel 
 Norton is a great man he knows how to eat; but 
 you, John, are an outcast from the table, and therefore 
 civilization cannot reach you. Civilization comes to
 
 122 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 the feast and asks, ' "Where is John Richmond, whom I 
 heard some of you say something about ? ' and we 
 reply, 'He holds us in contempt/ and Civilization 
 pronounces these solemn words : ' He who holds ye in 
 contempt, the same will I banish.' ' 
 
 "But," rejoined Richmond, "civilization teaches one 
 of two things to think or to become a glutton. 
 Somehow I was kept away from the feast and had to 
 accept the other teaching. I don't go about deifying 
 my stomach and making an apostle of the palate of my 
 mouth. When I eat " 
 
 " But you don't eat ; you stuff. I have sat down to a 
 table with you, and after giving your order you would 
 fill yourself so full of bread and pickles or anything 
 within reach that you couldn't eat anything when the 
 order was brought. " 
 
 "That was abstraction of thought instead of hunger," 
 Richmond replied. 
 
 " No, it was the presence of gluttony. Can you eat, 
 Mr. Witherspoon ? " 
 
 " I fear that I must confess a lack of higher civiliza- 
 tion. I am not well schooled in anything, and I sup- 
 pose that you must class me with Richmond as a 
 barbarian. I lack " 
 
 "Art," McGlenn suggested. "But for you there is a 
 chance. John Richmond is hopelessly gone." 
 
 "I sometimes feed my dogs on stewed tripe," said 
 Whittlesy, " and the good that it does them teaches me 
 that man is to be judged largely by what he eats." 
 
 "There is absolutely no use for all this bloody rot," 
 Mortimer declared. "Eating is essential, of course, 
 but I don't see how men can talk for an hour on the 
 subject, and talk foolishly, at that."
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 123 
 
 "If eating is essential," Richmond replied, "it is a 
 wonder that you don't kick against it." 
 
 "Ah, but isn't it a good thing that I don't kick 
 against non-essentials ? Wouldn't I be obliged to kick 
 against this assemblage and its beastly rot ? " 
 
 Mortimer sometimes emphasized his walk with a 
 peculiar springiness of step, and with this emphasis ho 
 walked off, biting the stem of his pipe. 
 
 "I thought that by this time you would begin to 
 show a weariness of the Press Club," McGlenn said to 
 Henry. 
 
 " I don't see why you should have thought that. I 
 said at first that I was one of you." 
 
 " Yes, but I didn't know but by this time you might 
 have discovered your mistake." 
 
 "I made no mistake, and therefore could discover 
 none. Let me tell you that between George Wither- 
 spoon's class and me there is but little affinity. You 
 may call me a crank, and perhaps I am, but I was poor 
 so long that I felt a sort of pride in the fight I was 
 compelled to make. Poverty has its arrogance, and 
 foppery is sometimes found in rags. I don't mind tell- 
 ing you that I have been strongly urged to take what is 
 called my place in the world ; but that place is so dis- 
 tasteful to me that I look on it with a shudder. I 
 despise barter I am compelled to buy, but I am not 
 forced to sell. I am not a sentimentalist if I were I 
 should attempt to write poetry. I am not a philosopher 
 if I were I shouldn't attempt to run a newspaper. I 
 am simply an ordinary man who has passed through an 
 extraordinary school. And what I think are virtues 
 may be errors." 
 
 McGlenn replied : " John is yonr friend. John
 
 124 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 thinks that you are a strong man I don't know yet, 
 but I do know that you please me when you are silent 
 and that you don't displease me when you talk. You 
 are strong enough to say, ' I don't know,' and a con- 
 fession of ignorance is a step toward wisdom. Ask 
 John a question to-day and he may say, 'I don't know/ 
 but to-morrow he does know he has spent anight 
 with it. You are a remarkable man, Mr. Witherspoon," 
 he added after a moment's reflection, "a very remark- 
 able man. Your life up to a short time ago, you say, 
 was a struggle ; your uncle was a poor man. Suddenly 
 you became the son of a millionaire. A weak nature 
 would straightway have assumed the airs of a rich man : 
 you remained a democrat. It was so remarkable that 1 
 thought the decision might react as an error, and there- 
 fore I asked if you had not begun to grow weary of this 
 democracy, the Press Club." 
 
 McGlenn smiled, and his smile had two meanings, 
 one for his friends and another for his enemies. His 
 friends saw a thoughtful countenance illumined by an 
 intellectual light ; his enemies recognized a sarcasm that 
 had escaped from a sly and revengeful spirit. But 
 Henry was his friend. 
 
 "John," said Richmond, "you think" 
 
 McGlenn turned out his thumb and began to motion 
 with his fist. "I won't submit to the narrow die turn 
 of a man who presumes to tell me what I think." 
 
 "But if nobody were to tell you, how would you find 
 out what you think ? Oh," he added, "I admit that 
 it was presumption on my part. I was presuming that 
 you think." 
 
 "I do think, and if some one must tell me wind 1 
 think, let him be a thinking man."
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 125 
 
 " John, yon cry out for thought, and are the first to 
 strike at it with your dogmatism. You don't think 
 you dogmatize." 
 
 Me Glenn turned to Henry. " I had two delightful 
 days last week. John Richmond was out of town. " 
 
 "Yes," said Ricamond, putting his feet on a chair. 
 " Falsehood gallops in riotous pleasure when Truth is 
 absent. Hold on ! I can stand one wrinkle between 
 your eyes, but I am afraid of two." 
 
 "A man of many accomplishments, but wholly lack- 
 ing in humor," said McGlenn, seeming to study Rich- 
 mond for the purpose of placing an appraisement on 
 him. "A man who worships Ouida and decries Sir 
 Richard Steele." 
 
 " No, I don't worship Ouida, but I read her some- 
 times because she is interesting. As for Steele, he is 
 decried by your praise. Say, John, you advised me to 
 change grocers every month, and I don't know but 
 it would be a good plan. An old fellow that I have 
 been trading with has sent me a bill for eighty-three 
 dollars." 
 
 " John, he probably takes you for a great man and 
 wants to compliment you." 
 
 "I don't object to a compliment, but that was flat- 
 tery," Richmond replied, taking his feet off one chair 
 and putting them on another. " Let's ride home, John ; 
 it's 'most too slippery to walk." 
 
 "All right. You have ruined my health already by 
 making me walk with you. Come on ; well go now."
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 AN OLD MAX WOULD INVEST. 
 
 1TTHEX Henry went home to dinner lie found,, already 
 * * seated at the table, old man Colton, Mrs. Coltou 
 :md Mrs. Brooks. The old Mary lander got away from 
 his soup, got off his chair, and greeted Henry with an 
 uffusive display of what might have been his pleasure at 
 -seeing the young man, but which had more of, the 
 uppearance of a palavering pretense. He bowed, ducked 
 his head first on one side and then on the other and 
 his colored handkerchief dangled at his coat-tails. He 
 found his tongue, which at first he seemed to have lost, 
 and with his bald head bobbing about, he appeared as 
 an aged child, prattling at random. 
 
 "Hah, hah, delighted to see you again, my dear 
 young man. Didn't know that I was coming when you 
 were so kind as to take lunch with me to-day ; ladies 
 came in the afternoon ; Brooks couldn't come with me, 
 but he will be here later on. Hah, hah, they are taking 
 excellent care of us, you see. Ah, you sit here by me ? 
 Glad." 
 
 Mrs. Colton was exceedingly feeble, and her daughter 
 appeared as a very old-fashioned girl in a stylish habit 
 an old daguerreotype sort of face, smooth, shiny and 
 expressionless. 
 
 " We have all been talking about you," Colton said, 
 
 as Henry sat down. " Your mother and sister think you 
 
 136
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 127 
 
 a very wonderful man, and my dear friend Wither- 
 spoon " 
 
 "Brother Colton is from Maryland," Witherspoon 
 remarked. 
 
 Colton laughed and ducked his head. Ah, the list- 
 less wit of the rich ! It may be pointless, but how laugh- 
 able is the millionaire's joke. 
 
 "But, my dear young man, we are determined to 
 have you with us," Colton declared, when he had recov- 
 ered himself. He nodded at Witherspoon. 
 
 "We are going to try," the great merchant replied. 
 " By the way, I told Brooks that we'd have to press 
 Bradley & Adams, of Atchison, Kansas. They are 
 altogether too slow there's no excuse for it." 
 
 "None in the world ; none whatever," Coltou agreed. 
 He more than agreed, for there was alarm in his voice, 
 and the alarm of an old miser is pitiable. " Gracious 
 alive, can they expect people to wait always ? Dear, 
 what can the world be coming to when we are all to be 
 cheate'd out of our rights? We'll have the law on 
 them." 
 
 Money professes great love for the law, and not with- 
 out cause. The rich man thinks that the law is his ; 
 and the poor man says, "It was not made for me." 
 
 Among the ladies Henry was the subject of a 
 subdued discussion, and occasionally he heard Mrs. 
 Colton say : " Such a comfort to you, and after so many 
 years of separation. So manly." And then Mrs. 
 Brooks would say : "Yes, indeed." 
 
 Henry noticed that Colton was not accompanied with 
 his mutton-broth economy. It was evident that the 
 old man was frugal only to his own advantage, and that 
 his heartiness came at ^he expense of other men.
 
 128 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 Brooks arrived soon after dinner. The women went 
 to the drawing-room to talk about Henry, and to ex- 
 change harmless hypocrisies, and the men betook them- 
 selves to the library to smoke and to discuss plots that 
 are known as enterprises. Country merchants were 
 taken up, turned over, examined and put down ruined. 
 Brooks was as keen and as ardent as a prosecuting attor- 
 ney. Every man who owed a bill was under indictment. 
 
 "You see," he said to Henry, "we have to hold these 
 fellows tight or they would get loose and smash us." 
 
 "You needn't apologize to me," Henry replied. 
 
 " Of course not, but as you say that you don't under- 
 stand business, I merely wanted to show you to what 
 extent we are driven." 
 
 " Oh, I assure you that it is awfully unpleasant," said 
 Col ton, " but we have to do it. And let me tell you, 
 my dear young man, there is more crime than you 
 imagine in the neglect of these fellows. In this blessed 
 country there is hardly any excuse for a man's failure 
 to meet his obligations. The trouble is that people who 
 can't afford it live too high. Let them economize ; let 
 them be sensible. Why, I could have gone broke forty- 
 odd years ago ; hah, I could go broke now. Oh, I know 
 that we are all accused of being hard, but you have no 
 idea what the wealthy people of this city do for the 
 poor. Just look at the charity balls ; look at our annual 
 showing, and you'll find it remarkable." 
 
 Henry felt that the charity of the rich was largely 
 a species of " bluff " that they make at one another. It 
 was not real charity; it was an advertisement it was 
 business. 
 
 "My dear friend "Witherspocn," said Colton, mouth- 
 ing his cigar he did not smoke at home " I am going
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 129 
 
 to branch out more. I'm going to make investments. 
 I see that it is safe, and I want you to help me." 
 
 " All right ; how much do you want to invest ? " 
 
 "Oh, I can place my hand on a little money just a 
 little. I've got some in stocks, but I've got a little by 
 me." 
 
 " How much ? " 
 
 This frightened him. " Oh, I don't know ; really, I 
 can't tell. But I think that I've got a little that I'd 
 like to invest. But I'll talk to you about it to-morrow." 
 
 "All right." 
 
 " I think real estate would be about the right thing. 
 I could soon turn it over, you know. Some wonder- 
 fully fortunate investments have been made that way. 
 But I'll talk to you about it to-morrow." 
 
 Brooks said that he was in something of a hurry to 
 get home, and the visitors took their leave early in the 
 evening. Witherspoon returned to the library after 
 going to the door with Colton. He sat down, stretched 
 forth his feet, meditated for a few moments, and said : 
 " The bark on a beech tree was never any closer than 
 that old man, and yet he is kind-hearted." 
 
 ""When kindness doesn't cost anything, I suppose," 
 Henry suggested. 
 
 " Yes, that's true. He spoke of the wonderful show- 
 ing of the charities of this city as though he were a 
 prime mover in them, when, in fact, I don't think he 
 ever contributed more than a barrel of flour in any one 
 year. But he is a good business man, and if there were 
 more like him there would be fewer bankrupts." 
 
 Ellen appeared at the door. " Henry, mother and I 
 are going to your room to pay you a call."
 
 130 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 " All right, I'll go np with you. Won't you come, 
 father ? " 
 
 " No, I believe not. Think I'll read a while and go 
 to bed." 
 
 Henry's room was bright with a gladsome fire. On 
 the table had been set a vase of moss roses, and beside 
 the vase lay an old black pipe, tied with a blue ribbon. 
 The young man laughed, and the girl said : 
 
 " Mother's doings. Ugh ! the nasty thing ! " 
 
 "If my son smoked a pipe when he was in exile," 
 Mrs. Witherspoon replied, " he can do so now. None 
 of the privileges of a strange land shall be denied him 
 in his own home." 
 
 She sat in an easy-chair and was slowly rocking. 
 To man a rocking-chair is a remembrancer of a mother's 
 affection. 
 
 "Light your pipe, my son." 
 
 "No, not now, mother." 
 
 Ellen sat on an arm of Henry's chair. " Your hair 
 would curl if you were to encourage it," she remarked. 
 
 " Has anybody said anything about curly hair ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 "No, but I was just thinking that yours might curl." 
 
 " Do you want me to look like Brooks ? " 
 
 She frowned. " He kinks his with a hot poker. I 
 don't like pretty men." 
 
 " How about handsome men ? " 
 
 . "Oh, I have to like them. You are a handsome 
 man, you know." 
 
 "Nonsense," he replied. 
 
 "Your grandmother was a very handsome woman," 
 said Mrs. Witherspoon. "She had jet-black hair, and 
 her teeth were like pearls. Ellen, what did Mr. Coglin
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 131 
 
 say when you gave him the slippers ? " Mr. Coglin 
 was a clergyman. 
 
 "Oh, he thanked me, of course. He couldn't very 
 well have said, ' Take them away/ * 
 
 "But did you tell him that you embroidered them 
 with your own hands ? " 
 
 "Yes, I told him." 
 
 "Then what did he say ?" 
 
 " He pretended to be greatly surprised, and said some- 
 thing, but I have forgotten what it was. Mrs. Brooks 
 is awful tiresome with her ' Yes, indeed/ isn't she ? 
 Seems to me that I'd learn something else." 
 
 " She's hardly so tiresome with her ' Yes, indeed/ as 
 her father is with his ' Hah, hah, my dear Mr. Wither- 
 spoon/ " Henry replied. 
 
 "But he is a very old man, my son," said Mrs. "With- 
 erspoon, " and you must excuse him. I have heard that 
 he was quite aristocratic before the war. " 
 
 "Oh, he never was aristocratic," Ellen declared. 
 " Aristocracy hampered by extreme stinginess would cut 
 but a poor figure, I should think. " 
 
 " Have we set up a grill here ? " Henry asked. 
 
 Mrs. Witherspoon nodded at Ellen as if to emphasize 
 the rebuke, and the young woman exclaimed : "Oh, 
 I'm singled out, am I ? Who said that the old man's 
 ' hah, hah/ was tiresome ? You'd better nod at your 
 son, mother." 
 
 But she gave her son never a nod. In her sight he 
 surely could commit no indiscretion. A moment later 
 the mother asked : 
 
 " Have they talked to you again about going into the 
 store ? " 
 
 "Oh, they hint at it occasionally."
 
 132 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 " Ellen, can't yon find a chair ? I know your brother 
 must be tired." Ellen got off the arm of Henry's 
 chair, and soon afterward Mrs. Witherspoon took the 
 vacated place. The young woman laughed, but said 
 nothing. The mother fondly touched Henry's hair and 
 smoothed it back from his forehead. "Don't you let 
 them worry you, my son. They can't help but respect 
 your manliness. Indeed," she added, growing strangely 
 bold for one so gentle, "must a man be a merchant 
 whether he will or not ? And whenever you want to 
 write about poor women, you do it. They are mis- 
 treated ; they are made wretched, and by just such men 
 as Brooks, too. What does he care for a woman's mis- 
 ery ? And your father's so blind that he doesn't see it. 
 But I see it. And I oughtn't to say it, but I will he 
 has the impudence to tell your father that I give too much 
 money to the poor. It's none of his business, I'm sure." 
 
 There was a peculiar softness in Henry's voice when 
 he replied: "I hope some time to catch him interfering 
 with your affairs." 
 
 " Oh, but you mustn't say a word, my son not a 
 word ; and I don't want your father to know that I have 
 said anything." 
 
 " He shall not know, but I hope some time to catch 
 Brooks interfering with your affairs. He has meddled 
 with mine, but I can forgive that." 
 
 Henry walked up and down the room when Mrs. 
 Witherspoon and Ellen were gone. With a mother's 
 love, that gentle woman had found a mother's place in 
 his heart. He looked at the rocking-chair. Suddenly 
 he seized hold of the mantelpiece to steady himself. 
 He had caught himself seriously wondering if she had 
 rocked him years ago.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE INVESTMENT. 
 
 IT seemed to Henry that he had just dozed off to sleep 
 when he was startled by a loud knock at the door. 
 
 "Henry, Henry ! " It was Witherspoon's voice. 
 Yes." 
 
 "Get up, quick! Old man Colton is murdered." 
 
 When he went down-stairs he found the household in 
 confusion. Every one on the place had been aroused. 
 The servants were whispering in the hall. Witherspoon 
 was waiting for him. 
 
 " A messenger has just brought the news. Come, we 
 must go over there. The carriage is waiting." 
 
 It was two o'clock. A fierce and cutting wind swept 
 across the lake the icy breath of a dying year. Not 
 a word was spoken as the carriage sped along. At the 
 door of Colton's home Witherspoon and Henry were 
 confronted by a policeman. 
 
 "My orders are to let no one in," said the officer. 
 
 "I am George Witherspoon." 
 
 The policeman stepped aside. Brooks met them in 
 the hall. He said nothing, but took Witherspoon's 
 hand. The place was thronged with police officers and 
 reporters. 
 
 Adjoining Colton's sleeping-apartment, on the second 
 floor, was a small room with a window looking out on 
 the back yard, and with one door opening from the 
 
 133
 
 134 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 hall. In this room, let partly into the wall, was an 
 iron safe in which the old man kept " the little money " 
 that he had decided to invest in real estate. The win- 
 dow was protected by upright iron bars. At night, a 
 gas-jet, turned low, threw dismal shadows about the 
 room, and it was the old man's habit to light the gas 
 at bed-time and to turn it off the first thing at morning. 
 He- had lighted the gas shortly after returning from 
 Witherspoon's house and had gone to bed, and it must 
 have been about one o'clock when the household was 
 startled by the report of a pistol. Brooks and his wife, 
 whose room was on the same floor, ran into the old 
 man's room. The place was dark, but a bright light 
 burned in the vault-room. Into this room they ran, 
 and there, lying on the floor, with money scattered 
 about him, was the old man, bloody and dead, with a 
 bullet-hole in his breast. But where was Mrs. Colton ? 
 They hastened back to her room and struck a light. 
 The old woman lay across the bed, unable to move 
 paralyzed. 
 
 The first discovery made by the police was that the 
 iron bars at the window, four in number, had been 
 sawed in two ; and then followed another discovery of a 
 more singular nature. In the window, caught by the sud- 
 den fall of the sash, was a black frock coat. In one of the 
 tail pockets was a briar-root pipe. The sash had fallen 
 while the murderer was getting out, and, pulled against 
 the sash, the pipe held the garment fast. One sleeve was 
 torn nearly off. In a side pocket was found a letter 
 addressed to Dave Kittymunks, general delivery, Chi- 
 cago, and post-marked Milwaukee. Under the window 
 a ladder was found. 
 
 At the coroner's inquest, held the next day, one of
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 135 
 
 the servants testified that three days before, while the 
 old man and Brooks were at the store and while the 
 ladies were out, a man with black whiskers, and who 
 wore a black coat, had called at the house and said that 
 he had been sent to search for sewer-gas. He had an 
 order presumably signed by Mr. Colton, and was ac- 
 cordingly shown through the house. He had insisted 
 upon going into the vault-room, declaring that he had 
 located the gas there, but was told that the room was 
 always kept locked. He then went away. The serv- 
 ant had not thought to tell Mr. Colton. 
 
 A general delivery clerk at the post-office testified 
 that the letter addressed to Dave Kittymunks had 
 passed through his hands. The oddness of the name 
 had fastened it on his memory. He did not think that 
 he could identify the man who had received the letter, 
 but he recalled the black whiskers. The letter was ap- 
 parently written by a woman, and was signed "Lil." It 
 was an urgent appeal for money.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 ARRESTED EVERYWHERE. 
 
 ^TTTHO is Dave Kittymunks ?" was a question asked 
 * ' by the newspapers throughout the country. Not 
 the slightest trace of him could be found, nor could " Lil " 
 be discovered with any degree of certainty. But one 
 morning the public was fed to an increase of appetite by 
 an article that appeared in a Chicago newspaper. 
 " Kitty mnnks came to Chicago about five months ago," 
 said the writer, " and for a time went under the name 
 of John Pruett. Fierce in his manner, threatening in 
 his talk, wearing a scowl, frowning at prattling chil- 
 dren and muttering at honest men, he repelled every 
 one. Dissatisfied with his lot in life, he refused, even 
 for commensurate compensation, to perform that honest 
 labor which is the province of every true man, and like 
 a hyena, he prowled about growling at himself and 
 despising fate. The writer met him on several occa- 
 sions and held out inducements that might lead to con- 
 versation, but was persistently repulsed by him. He 
 frowned upon society, and set the grinding heel of his 
 disapproval on every attempt to draw him out. Was 
 there some dark mystery connected with his life ? This 
 question the writer asked himself. He execrated 
 humanity ; and, moody and alone, the writer has seen 
 him sitting on a bench on the lake front, turning with 
 a sullen look and viewing with suppressed rage the 
 
 architectural grandeur towering at his back." 
 
 136
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 127 
 
 The article was written by Mr. Flummers. As the 
 only reporter who could write from contact with the 
 mnrderer, his sentences were bloated into strong signifi- 
 cance. Fame reached down and snatched him up, and 
 the blue light of his flambeau played about him. 
 
 " Pessimist as he is " Flummers was holding forth 
 among the night reporters at the central station 
 " Pessimist as he is, and a skeptic though he may be, 
 papa goes through this life with his eyes open. Idle 
 suggestion says, ' Shut your eyes, papa, and be happy,' 
 but shrewdness says, ' Watch that fellow going along 
 there/ I don't claim any particular credit for this ; 
 we are not to be vain of what nature has done for us, 
 nor censured for what she has denied. We are all chil- 
 dren, toddling about as an experiment, and wondering 
 what we are going to be. Some of us fall and weep 
 over our bruises, and some of us some of us get there. 
 He, he, he." 
 
 "Flummers, have they raised your salary yet ?" some 
 one asked. 
 
 "Oh, no, and that's why I am disgusted with the 
 newspaper profession. The country cries out, ' Who is 
 the man ? ' There is a deep silence. The country 
 cries again, ' Does any one know this man ? ' And 
 then papa speaks. But what does he get ? The razzle. 
 A great scoop rewarded with a razzle. My achieve- 
 ments are taken too much as a matter of course. I 
 don't assert myself enough. I am too modest. Say, I 
 smell liquor. Who's got a bottle ? Somebody took a 
 cork out of a bottle. Who was it ? Say, Will, have 
 you got a bottle ? " 
 
 "Thought you said that your doctor told you not to 
 drink."
 
 138 'TffE COLOSSUS. 
 
 " He did ; he said that I had intercostal rheumatism. 
 He examined me carefully, and when I asked him what 
 he thought, he replied, ' Mr. Flummers, you can't afford 
 to drink.' " 
 
 " And did you tell him that you could afford it that 
 it didn't cost you anything ? " 
 
 " Oh, ho, ho, no ! Say, send out and get a bottle. 
 What are you fellows playing there ? Ten cents ante, 
 all jack pots ? It's a robbers' game." 
 
 In every community a stranger wearing black 
 whiskers was under suspicion. A detective shrewdly 
 suggested that the murderer might have shaved, and 
 he claimed great credit for this timely hint ; but no 
 matter, the search for the black-whiskered man was 
 continued. Dave Kittymimks was arrested in all parts 
 of the country, and the head-line writer, whose humor 
 could not long be held in subjection, began to express 
 himself thus: "Dave Kittymunks captured in St. Paul, 
 also seized in New Orleans, and is hotly pursued in the 
 neighborhood of Kansas City." 
 
 Witherspoon, sitting by his library fire at night, 
 would say over and over again : "I told him never to 
 keep any money in the house. He was so close, so 
 suspicious ; and then to put his money in a safe that a 
 boy might have knocked to pieces ! " And it became 
 Mrs. Witherspoon's habit to declare : " I just know that 
 somebody will break into our house next." Then the 
 merchant's impatience would express itself with a grunt. 
 "Oh, it has given you and Ellen a rare chance fcr 
 speculation. We'd better wall ourselves in a cave and 
 die there waiting for robbers to drill their way in. It 
 does seem to me that they ought to catch that fellow,
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 139 
 
 I told Brooks that he'd better increase the reward to 
 fifty thousand." 
 
 Witherspoon and Brooks called at Henry's office. 
 "You may publish the fact that I have offered fifty 
 thousand dollars reward for Kittymunks," said Brooks, 
 speaking to Henry, but looking into the room where 
 Miss Drury was at work. 
 
 " That ought to be a great stimulus," Henry replied, 
 " but it doesn't appear to me that there has been any 
 lack of effort." 
 
 "No," said Witherspoon ; "but the prospect of fifty 
 thousand dollars will make a strong effort stronger." 
 
 "By the way," Henry remarked, "this is the first 
 time you have visited me in my work-room." 
 
 Witherspoon replied : " Yes, that's so ; and it strikes 
 me that you might get more comfortable quarters." 
 
 "Comfortable enough for a workshop, 5 ' Henry re- 
 joined. 
 
 " Yes, I presume so. Are you ready, Brooks ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "We have just come from police headquarters," said 
 Witherspoon, "and thought that we would stop and 
 tell you of the increased reward. You were late at 
 dinner yesterday. Will you be on time this evening ? " 
 
 "Yes, I think so." 
 
 When they were gone, Henry went into Miss Drury's 
 room. " Was that your father ? " she asked. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And he scolded you for being late yesterday. If he 
 had suspected that I was the cause, I suppose he would 
 have come in and stormed at me." 
 
 "You were not the cause." 
 
 " Yes, you were helping me with my work."
 
 140 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 "It was my work, too." He tilted a pile of news- 
 papers off a chair, sat down and said : " I feel at home 
 with you." 
 
 " Oh, am I so homely ? " she asked, smiling. 
 
 " Yes, restoring the word to its best meaning. By 
 the way, you haven't cut off your hair." 
 
 "No, I forgot it, but I'm going to." 
 
 " My sister Ellen has hair something like yours, but 
 not so heavy and not so bright." 
 
 "I should like to see her." 
 
 " Because she has hair like yours ? " 
 
 "What a question ! No, because I am acquainted 
 with her brother, of course. " 
 
 " And when you become acquainted with a man do 
 you want to meet his sister ? " 
 
 "Oh, you are getting to be a regular tease, Mr. 
 Witherspoon. After awhile I shall be afraid to talk to 
 you." 
 
 " I hope the clock will refuse to record that time. 
 You say that you would like to see my sister. You 
 shall see her ; you must come home to dinner with 
 me." 
 
 She gave him a quick look, a mere glance, the short- 
 est sentence within the range of human expression, but 
 in that short sentence a full book of meaning. One 
 moment she was nothing but a resentment ; but when 
 she looked up again the light in her eyes had been 
 softened by that half -sarcastic pity which a well-bred 
 woman feels for the ignorance of man. 
 
 "Your sister has not called on me," she said. 
 
 He replied : " I beg your pardon for overlooking 
 the ceremonious flirtation which women insist shall be 
 indulged in, for I assure you that their ways are some-
 
 TEE COLOSSUS. 141 
 
 times a mystery to me ; but I admit that the commonest 
 sort of sense should have kept me from falling into this 
 error. My sister shall call on you." 
 
 "Pardon me, but she must not." 
 
 " And may I ask why not ? " 
 
 "My aunt lives in a flat," she answered. 
 
 " Suppose she does ? What difference can that 
 make ? " 
 
 " It makes this difference : Your sister couldn't con- 
 ceal the air of a patron, and I couldn't hide my resent" 
 meut ; therefore," she added with a smile that brought 
 back all her brightness, " to be friends we must remain 
 strangers. " 
 
 " But suppose I should call on you ; would you regard 
 it as a patronage ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Because you are a man." 
 
 "You women are peculiar creatures." 
 
 " An old idea always patly expressed," she replied. 
 
 "But isn't it true?" 
 
 "It must be, or it wouldn't have lived so long," she 
 answered. 
 
 "A pleasing sentiment," he replied, "but old age is 
 not a mark of truth, for nothing is grayer than false- 
 hood." 
 
 " But it finally dies, and truth lives on," she rejoined. 
 
 "No, it is often buried." 
 
 " So is a mummy buried, but it it brought to light 
 again." 
 
 "Yes, but it doesn't live ; it is simply a mummy." 
 
 "Oh, well," she said, "I know that you are wrong, 
 but I won't worry with it."
 
 J42 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 John Eichmond opened the door of Henry's room. 
 "Come in," Henry called, advancing to meet him. 
 " How are you ? And now that you are here, make 
 yourself at home." 
 
 "All right," Eichmond replied, sitting down, reaching 
 out with his foot and drawing a spittoon toward him. 
 " How is everything running 9 " 
 
 "First-rate." 
 
 "You are getting out a good paper. I have just 
 heard that the reward for Kittymuiiks has been in- 
 creased." 
 
 "Yes, it was increased not more than an hour ago." 
 
 " Who is to pay it ? " 
 
 " The State, you know, has offered a small reward ; 
 the Colossus Company is to pay twenty thousand dollars. 
 and the remainder will be paid by the Colton estate." 
 
 "Who constitutes the Colton estate ?" 
 
 "Brooks, mainly." 
 
 Eichmond put his hand to his mouth. " That's what 
 I thought," said he. "Do you know Brooks very 
 well ? " he asked after a short silence. 
 
 "Not very." 
 
 " What do you think of him ? " 
 
 "I despise him." 
 
 "I thought so. As the French say, whom does it 
 benefit ? " 
 
 They looked at each other, but said nothing. There 
 could be no mistake as to who was benefited. After a 
 time Henry remarked : " I see that Flummers has gone 
 to Omaha to identify a suspect." 
 
 " He did go, but I heard some of the boys say that he 
 reiwrned this morning. Is your work all done for to 
 day?"
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 143 
 
 "Yes, about all." 
 
 " Suppose we go over to the club." 
 
 "All right. Wait a moment." 
 
 Henry stepped into Miss Drury's room. " You must 
 forgive me," he said, in a low tone. 
 
 " What for ? " she asked, in surprise. 
 
 " For so rudely inviting you to dinner when my sister 
 had not even called on you." 
 
 "Oh, that's nothing," she replied, laughing. "Such 
 mistakes are common enough with men, I should 
 think." 
 
 " Not with sensible men. What have you here ? " 
 
 "Oh, some stupid paragraphs about women." 
 . "They'll keep till to-morrow." 
 
 "Bat Mr. Mitchell said he wanted them to-day." 
 
 " Tell him if he calls for them that I want them to- 
 morrow. You'd better go home and rest." 
 
 " Rest ? Why, I haven't done anything to make me 
 tired." 
 
 " Well, you don't know how soon you may be tired, 
 and you'd better take your rest in advance. All right, 
 John," he said in a louder tone, "I'm with you." 
 
 When they entered the office of the Press Club, a fo- 
 rensic voice, followed by laughter, bore to them the 
 intelligence that Mr. Flummers was in the front room, 
 declaiming his recent adventures. They found the ora- 
 tor measuredly stepping the short distance between the 
 round table and the post on which was fixed the button 
 of the electric bell. Led by fondness to believe that 
 some one, moved to generosity, might ask him to ring 
 for the drinks, he showed a disposition to loiter when- 
 ever he reached the post, and the light of eager expect-
 
 144 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 ancy and the shadow of sore disappointment played a 
 trick pantomime on his countenance. 
 
 " Oh, ho, ho, here come two of my staff. John, I 
 have been talking for an hour, and the bell is rn sting 
 from disuse." 
 
 " Why don't you ring it on your own account ? " 
 
 "Oh, no; you can't expect one man to do every- 
 thing." 
 
 " Go on with your story. " 
 
 " But is there anything in it ? " 
 
 " If you mean your story, I don't think there's much 
 in it." 
 
 "If you cut it short enough," said Mortimer, "we'll 
 all contribute." 
 
 "There spoke a disgruntled Englishman," Flummers 
 exclaimed. " Having no humor himself, he scowls on 
 
 the the" He scalloped the air, but it failed to 
 
 bring the right word. " Jim, you'd better confine your- 
 self to the writing of encyclopedias and nflt meddle with 
 the buzz-saw of of sharp retort." 
 
 "He appears to have made it that time," said 
 Whittlesy. 
 
 "Now, Whit, it may behoove some men to speak, 
 but it doesn't behoove you. Eemember that I hold you 
 in the hollow of my hand." 
 
 " Let us have the story," said Henry. 
 
 "But is the laborer worthy of his hire is there any- 
 thing in it ? " 
 
 "Yes, ring the bell." 
 
 "That's the stuff." 
 
 "Flummers," some one remarked, a few moments 
 later, " I don't think that I ever saw you drunk. " 
 
 Flummers tapped his forehead and replied : " The
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 145 
 
 Win predominates the jag. But I must gather up the 
 flapping ends of my discourse. I will begin again." 
 
 "Are you going to repeat that dose of bloody rot ?" 
 Mortimer asked. 
 
 "Jim, I pity you. I pity any man that can't see a 
 point when it's held under his nose." 
 
 "Or smell one when it's held under his eye," some 
 one suggested. 
 
 "You fellows are pretty gay," said Flummers. "You 
 must have drawn your princely stipends this week." 
 He hesitated a moment, pressed his hand to his fore- 
 head, cut a fish-hook in the air and resumed his recital : 
 
 "When I reached Omaha it was snowing. The 
 heavens wore a feathery frown." 
 
 "He didn't fill," said Whittlesy. 
 
 Flnmmers condemned him with a look and continued : 
 "The wind whetted itself to keenness on a bleak knob 
 and came down to shave its unhappy customers." 
 
 "He made his flush," said Whittlesy. 
 
 Flummers did not look at him. "I went imme- 
 diately to the jail, where one of the rank and file of 
 the Kittymunkses was confined ; and say, you ought 
 to hare seen the poor, miserable, bug-bitten wretch 
 they stood up in front of me. He wore about a half- 
 pint of dirty whiskers, and in his make-up he reminded 
 me of a scare-crow that brother and I once made to 
 put out on the farm in Wisconsin. I have seen a num- 
 ber of Sittymunkses, but he was the worst. I said, 
 ' Say, why don't you wash yourself ? ' and the horrible 
 suggestion made him shudder. f Is this the man ? ' 
 the sheriff asked. ' Gentlemen, ' I replied, disdaining 
 the sheriff, ' on the first train that pulls out I am going 
 back to Chicago; and whenever you catch another
 
 146 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 baboon that has worn himself threadbare by sitting 
 around your village, telegraph me and I will come and 
 tell you to turn him loose.' ' Then he is not the 
 man ? ' said the sheriff, giving me a look that told of 
 deep official disappointment. ' Gentlemen/ I replied, 
 still disdaining the sheriff, 'I never saw this poor 
 wretch before. Tra la. ' I met one gentleman in the 
 town. I think he belonged to the sporting fraternity. 
 He said, ' Will you have something ? ' and we went into 
 a place kept by a retired prize-fighter. My friend 
 pointed to a noisy party at the rear end of the room, 
 and said: 'The city authorities/ 'Should they 
 live ?' I asked, and my friend said, 'They should not.' 
 And then papa was in town. ' Make me a sufficient 
 inducement,' said I, ' and I will take a position on one 
 of your newspapers and kill them off. One of my 
 specialties is the killing of city authorities. Nature 
 has intended them for my meat. I have killed mayors 
 in nearly every place that is worthy of the name of 
 municipality ; and between the ordinary city official 
 and papa,' I added, ' there is about as much affinity as 
 there is between a case of hydrophobia and a limpid 
 trout stream trickling its way through the woods of my 
 native Wisconsin.' Say, do you know what he did ? 
 He eyed me suspiciously and edged off toward the door. 
 Oh, it is painful to stand by helplessly and see fate 
 constantly casting my lot among jays. " 
 
 " Mr. Flummers, do you think that you would recog- 
 nize Kitty munks if you were to see him?" Henry 
 asked. 
 
 " Sure thing. Papa's friends may deceive him, but 
 his eyes, backed by his judgment, never do. Say, I'm 
 getting up a great scheme, and pretty soon I'm going
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 147 
 
 to travel through the country with it. I'm going to 
 organize an investment company for country merchants. 
 I've already got about fifteen thousand dollars' worth of 
 stock ready to issue. Has everybody been to lunch ? I 
 have been so busy that I haven't eaten anything since 
 early this morning. Joe, lend me fifty cents." 
 
 "And take a mortage on your investment company?" 
 
 "Oh, ho, ho, that's a good thing. The other day 
 one of your so-called literary men said that he would 
 give me two dollars an hour to write for him from 
 dictation. ' Ha, I've struck a soft thing/ thinks I, 
 and I goes to his den with him. Well, when I had 
 worked about half an hour, taking down his guff, he 
 turns to me and says, ' Say, lend me a dollar.' ' I 
 haven't got but forty cents,' I replied. But he didn't 
 weaken. ' Well, let me have that,' says he. ' You've 
 got A job and I haven't, you know.' And he robbed 
 me. I've got to go out now and see a business jay from 
 Peoria. With my newspaps: ~7ork and my side specula- 
 tions I'm kept pretty busy. Joe, where's that fifty?" 
 
 " Gave it to you a moment ago." 
 
 "All right. Say, will you fellows be here when I 
 come back ? " 
 
 "Not if we can get out," Whittlesy replied. 
 
 " Oh, you've bobbed up again, have you ? But 
 remember that papa holds you in the hollow of his 
 hand."
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 CRIED A SENSATION. 
 
 IN Chicago was a sheet it could not be called a 
 newspaper and assuredly was not a publication 
 that was rarely seen until late at night, and which 
 always appeared to have been smuggled across the 
 border-line of darkness into the light of the street 
 lamps. Eagged boys, carrying this sheet, hung about 
 the theaters and cried a sensation when the play was 
 done. Their aim was to catch strangers, and to turn 
 fiercely upon their importunity was not so effective as 
 simply to say, "I live here." 
 
 One night, as Henry and Ellen came out of a 
 theater, they heard these ragged boys shouting the 
 names of "Witherspoon and Brooks. 
 
 "Gracious," said Ellen, with sudden weight on 
 Henry's arm, "what does that mean ?" 
 
 "It's nothing but a fake," he answered. 
 
 " But get a paper and see ; won't you ? " 
 
 "Yes, as soon as I can." 
 
 They were so crowd-pressed that it was some time 
 before they could reach one of the boys ; and when they 
 did, Ellen snatched a paper and attempted to read it by 
 the light of the carriage lamp. 
 
 "Wait until we get home," he said. "I tell you it 
 amounts to nothing." 
 
 "No, we will go to a restaurant," she replied;
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 149 
 
 The sensation was a half column of frightening head 
 on a few inches of smeared body. It declared that 
 recent developments pointed to the fact that "Wither- 
 spoon and Brooks knew more concerning the where- 
 abouts of Dave Kittymunks than either of them cared 
 to tell. It was known that old Colton's extreme con- 
 servatism had been regarded as an obstruction, and 
 that while they might not actually have figured in the 
 murder, yet they were known to be pleased at the 
 result, that the large reward was all a "bluff," and that 
 it was to their interest to aid the escape of Kitty- 
 munks. 
 
 Before breakfast the next morning Brooks was at 
 Witherspoon's house. A " friend" had called his atten- 
 tion to the article. Had it appeared in one of the 
 reputable journals instead of in this fly-by-night 
 smircher of the characters of men, a suit for criminal 
 libel would have been brought, but to give countenance 
 to this slander was to circulate it ; and therefore the 
 two men were resolved not to permit the infamy 'to 
 place them under the contribution of a moment's 
 worry. 
 
 " The character of a successful man is a target to be 
 shot at by the envious," said Witherspoon. He was 
 pacing the room, and anger had hardened his step. 
 "A target to be shot at," he repeated, "and the shots 
 are free." 
 
 "I didn't know what to do," Brooks replied. He 
 stood on the hearth-rug with his hands behind him. " I 
 was so worried that I couldn't sleep after I saw the 
 thing late last night ; and my wife was crying when I 
 left home." 
 
 " Infamous scoundrels ! " Witherspoon muttered.
 
 150 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 "I didn't think anything could be done," Brooks 
 continued, "but I thought it best to see you at once." 
 
 "Of course," said Witherspoon. 
 
 " But, after all, don't you think we ought to have 
 those wretches locked up ? " Brooks asked. 
 
 "Yes," Witherspoon answered, "and we ought to have 
 them hanged, but we might as well set out to look for 
 Kittymunks. Ten chances to one they are not here at 
 all ; the thing might have been printed in a town three 
 hundred miles from here." 
 
 " Yes, that's so," Brooks admitted ; and addressing 
 Henry, who stood at a window, gazing out, he added : 
 "What. do you think about it ?" 
 
 Henry did not heed the question, so forgetfully was 
 he gazing, and Brooks repeated it. 
 
 "If you have decided not to worry," Henry answered, 
 " it is better not to trouble yourselves at all. I doubt 
 whether you could ever find the publishers of the 
 paper." 
 
 "You are right," Brooks agreed. 
 
 " Character used to be regarded as something at least 
 half way sacred," said Witherspoon, "but now, like an 
 old plug hat, it is kicked about the streets. And yet we 
 boast of our freedom. Freedom, indeed ! So would 
 it be freedom to sit at a window and. shoot men as they 
 pass. I swear to God that I never had as much trouble 
 and worry as I've had lately. Everything goes wrong. 
 What about Jordway & Co., of Aurora ?" 
 
 "Oh, I forgot to tell you," Brooks answered. "Jord- 
 way has killed himself, and the affairs of the firm are in 
 a hopeless tangle." 
 
 "Of course," Witherspoon replied, "and we'll never 
 get a cent."
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 151 
 
 " I'm afraid not, sir. I cautioned yon against them, 
 you remember." 
 
 "Xever saw anything like it," Witherspoon declared, 
 not recalling the caution that Brooks had advised, or 
 not caring to acknowledge it. 
 
 " Oh, everything may come out all right. Pardon 
 me, Mr. Witherspoon, but I think you need res 4 " 
 
 "There is no rest," Witherspoon replied. 
 
 "And yet," said Henry, turning from the window, 
 "you took me to task for saying that I sometimes felt 
 there was nothing in the entire scheme of life." 
 
 " For saying it at your age, yes. You have but just 
 begun to try life and have no right to condemn it." 
 
 " I didn't condemn it without a hearing. Isn't there 
 something wrong when the poor are wretched and the 
 rich are miserable ? " 
 
 "Xonsense," eaid Witherspoon. 
 
 "Oh, but that's no argument." 
 
 "Isn't it ? Well, then there shall be none." 
 
 " I must be getting back," said Brooks. 
 
 " Won't you stay to breakfast ? " Witherspoon asked. 
 " It will be ready in a few minutes. Hum " looking 
 at his watch " ought to have been ready long ago. 
 Everything goes wrong. Can't even get anything to 
 eat. I'll swear I never saw the like." 
 
 "I'm much obliged, but I can't stay," Brooks 
 answered. 
 
 " Well, I suppose I shall be down to the store some 
 time to-day. If anybody calls to see me, just say that I 
 am at home, standing round begging for something to 
 eat. Good morning." 
 
 Henry laughed, and the merchant gave him a strained 
 look. For a moment'- the millionaire bore a striking
 
 152 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 likeness to old Andrew, at the time when he declared 
 that the devil had gone wrong. The young man sought 
 to soothe him when Brooks was gone ; he apologized 
 for laughing ; he said that he keenly felt that there 
 was cause for worry, but that the picture of a Chicago 
 merchant standing about at home begging for his 
 breakfa t, while important business awaited him at the 
 store, was enough to crack the thickest crust of 
 solemnity. The merchant's dignity was soon brought 
 back ; never was it far beyond his reach. At breakfast 
 he was severe with silence. 
 
 Over and over again during the day Henry repeated 
 Richmond's words, " Whom does it benefit ? " and these 
 words went to bed with him, and as though restless, 
 they turned and tossed themselves upon his mind 
 throughout the night, and like children, they clamored 
 to be taken up at early morning, to be dressed in the 
 many colors of supposition.
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 A HELPLESS OLD WOMAN. 
 
 Kansas City was arrested a suspicious-looking man, 
 who, upon being taken to jail, confessed that his 
 name was Dave Kittymunks and owned that he had 
 killed old man Colton. Thus was ended the search 
 for the murderer, the newspapers said, and the vigil- 
 ance of the Kansas City police was praised. But 
 it soon transpired that the prisoner had been a street 
 preacher in Topeka at the time when the murder was 
 committed, that he had on that day created a sensation 
 by announcing himself John the Baptist and swearing 
 that all other Johns the Baptist were base impostors. 
 The fellow was taken to an asylum for the insane, and 
 the search for Dave Kittymunks was resumed. 
 
 Old Mrs. Colton had not moved a muscle since the 
 night of the murder. She lay looking straight at the 
 ceiling, and in her eyes was an expression that seemed 
 constantly to repeat, " My body is dead, but my mind is 
 alive," Once every week the pastor of her church came 
 to see her. He was an old man, threatened with palsy, 
 and had long ago ceased to find pleasure in the appetites 
 and vanities of this life. He came on Sunday, just before 
 the time for evening services in the church, and kneel- 
 ing at the old woman's chair, which he placed near her 
 bedside, lifted his shaking voice in prayer. It was a 
 touching sight, one infirmity pleading for another, 
 
 153
 
 154 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 palsy praying for paralysis ; but upon these devotions 
 Brooks began to look with a frown. 
 
 " "What is the use of it ? " he asked, speaking to his 
 wife. " If a celebrated specialist can't do her any good, 
 I know that an old man's prayer can't." 
 
 "We ought not to deny her anything," the wife 
 answered. 
 
 "And we ought not to inflict her with anything," the 
 husband replied. 
 
 "Prayer was never an infliction to her." 
 
 "But this old man's praying is an infliction to the 
 rest of us." 
 
 "Not to me ; and you needn't hear him." 
 
 "I can't help it if I'm at home." 
 
 "But you needn't be at home when he comes." 
 
 " Oh, I suppose I could go over and stand on the lake 
 shore, but it would be rather unpleasant this time of 
 year." 
 
 "There are other places you can go." 
 
 " Oh, I suppose so. Doesn't make any difference to 
 you, of course, where I go." 
 
 "Not much," she answered. 
 
 The Witherspoon family was gathered one evening in 
 the mothers room. It was Mrs. Witherspoon's birth- 
 day, and it was a home-like picture, this family group, 
 with the mother sitting in a rocking-chair, fondly look- 
 ing about and giving the placid heed of love to Henry 
 whenever he spoke. On the walls were hung the por- 
 traits of early Puritans, the brave and rugged ancestors 
 of Uncle Louis and Uncle Harvey, and all her mother's 
 people, who were dark. 
 
 Ellen had been imitating a Miss Miller, who, it was 
 said, was making a determined set at Henry, and With-
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 155 
 
 erspoon was laughing at the aptness of his daughter's 
 mimicry. 
 
 "I must confess," said Mrs. Witherspoon, slowly rock- 
 ing herself, "that I don't see anything to laugh at. 
 Miss Miller is an exceedingly nice girl, I'm sure, but I 
 don't think she is at all suited to my son. She 
 giggles at everything, and Henry is too sober-minded for 
 that sort of a wife. " 
 
 "But marriage would probably cure her giggling," 
 Witherspoon replied, slyly winking at Henry. " To a 
 certain kind of a girl there is nothing that so inspires a 
 giggle as the prospect of marriage, but marriage itself 
 is the greatest of all soberers it sometimes removes all 
 traces of the previous intoxication." 
 
 " Now, George, what is the use of talking that way ? " 
 She rarely called him George. " You know as well as 
 you know anything that I didn't giggle. Of course I 
 was lively enough, but I didn't go about giggling as Miss 
 Miller does. " 
 
 " Oh, perhaps not exactly as Miss Miller does, but " 
 
 "George!" 
 
 " I say you didn't. But anybody can see that Ellen 
 is a sensible girl, and yet she giggles." 
 
 "Not at the prospect of maniage, papa," the girl 
 replied. " To look at Mr. Brooks and his wife is quite 
 enough to make me serious." 
 
 " Brooks and his wife ? What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Perhaps I oughtn't to have said anything, but they 
 appear to make each other miserable. There, now, I 
 wish I hadn't said anything. I might have known that 
 it would make you look glum. " 
 
 " How do you know that they make each other mis- 
 erable ? "
 
 156 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 "I know this, that when they should be on their good 
 behavior they can't keep from snapping at each other. 
 I was over there this afternoon, and when Mr. Brooks 
 came home he began to growl about the preacher's com- 
 ing once a week to pray for Mrs. Colton. He ought to 
 be ashamed of himself. The poor old creature lies 
 there so helpless ; and he wants to deny her even the 
 consolation of hearing her pastor's voice. And he 
 knows that she was so devoted to the church." 
 
 "My daughter," Witherspoon gravely said, "there 
 must be some mistake about this." 
 
 " But I know that there isn't any mistake about it. 
 I was there, I tell you. " 
 
 "And still there may be some mistake," Witherspoon 
 insisted. 
 
 " What doctor's treating the old lady ? " Henry 
 asked. 
 
 "A celebrated specialist, Brooks tells me," Wither- 
 spoon answered. 
 
 "What's his name ?" 
 
 "I don't remember," said Witherspoon. "Do you 
 know, Ellen?" 
 
 "Doctor Linmarck," Ellen answered. 
 
 "Let us not think of anything so very unpleasant," 
 said Mrs. Witherspoon. 
 
 But the spirit of pleasantry was flown. With another 
 imitation of Miss Miller, Ellen strove to call it back, but 
 failed, for Witherspoon paid no attention to her. He 
 sat brooding, with a countenance as fixed as the expres- 
 sion of a mask, and in his gaze, bent on that nothing 
 through which nothing can be seen, there was no light. 
 
 "Father, do your new slippers fit?" Mrs. Wither- 
 spoon asked. He was not George now.
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 157 
 
 "Very nicely," he answered, with a warning absent- 
 mindedness. Presently he went to the library, and 
 shutting out the amenities of that cheerful evening, 
 shut in his own somber brooding. 
 
 "I don't see why he should let that worry him so," 
 said Mrs. Witherspoon. " He's getting to be so sensi- 
 tive over Brooks." 
 
 "I don't think it's his sensitiveness over Brooks, 
 mother," Ellen replied, "but the fact that he is gradiu 
 ally finding out that Brooks is not so perfect as he pre- 
 tends to be." 
 
 "I don't know," the mother rejoined, "but I think he 
 has just as much confidence in Brooks as he ever had. 
 I know he said last night that the Colossus couldn't get 
 along without him." 
 
 "Ellen," said Henry, "what is the name of that 
 doctor ? " 
 
 " Linmarck. It isn't so hard to remember, is it ? " 
 
 "No, but I forgot it." 
 
 Immediately after reaching the office the next day, 
 Henry sent for a reporter who had lived so long in 
 Chicago that he was supposed thoroughly to know the 
 city. 
 
 "Are you acquainted with Doctor Linmarck?" 
 Henry asked when the reporter entered the room. 
 
 "Linmarck ? Let me see. No, don't think I am." 
 
 " Did you ever hear of him ? " 
 
 " What's his particular line ? " 
 
 "Paralysis, I think." 
 
 "No, I've never heard of him." 
 
 "Well, find out all you can about him and let me 
 know as soon as possible. And say," he added as the 
 reporter turned to go, "don't say a word about it."
 
 158 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 "All right." 
 
 Several hours later the reporter returned. " Did yon 
 learn anything ? " Henry asked. 
 
 " Yes, about all there is to learn, I suppose. He has 
 an office on Wabash Avenue, near Twelfth Street. I 
 called on him." 
 
 " Does he look like a great specialist ? " 
 " Well, his beard is hardly long enough for a great 
 specialist. " 
 
 "But does he appear to be prosperous ?" 
 "His location stands against that supposition." 
 " But does he strike you as being an impostor ? " 
 " Well, not exactly that ; but I shouldn't like to be 
 paralyzed merely to give him a chance to try his hand 
 on me. I told him that I had considerable trouble 
 with my left arm, and he asked if I had ever been 
 afflicted with rheumatism, or if I had ever been stricken 
 with typhoid fever, or I don't remember how many 
 diseases he tried on suspicion. I told him that so far as I 
 knew I had been in excellent health, and then he began 
 to ask me about my parents. I told him that they 
 were dead and that I didn't care to be treated for any 
 disease that they might have had. I asked him where 
 he was from, and he said Philadelphia. He hasn't been 
 here long, but is treating some very prominent people, 
 he says. There may be a reason why he should be 
 employed, but I failed to find it."
 
 CHAPTEK XXII. 
 
 TO GO GIST A VISIT. 
 
 A MONTH must have passed since Henry had 
 4 sought to investigate the standing of Dr. Lin- 
 marck, when, one evening, Ellen astonished her father 
 with the news that old Mrs. Colton was to be taken on 
 a visit to her sister, who lived in New Jersey. The 
 sister had written an urgent letter to Mrs. Brooks, 
 begging that the old lady might straightway be sent to 
 her, and offering to relieve Mr. Brooks of all the trouble 
 and responsibility that might be incurred by the 
 journey. She would send her son and her family 
 physician. Witherspoon grunted at so absurd a request 
 and was surprised that Brooks should grant it. The 
 old woman might die on the train, and besides, what 
 possible pleasure could she extract from such a visit ? 
 It was nonsense. 
 
 " But suppose the poor old creature wants to go ? " 
 said Mrs. "Witherspoon. 
 
 " Ah, but how is any one to know whether she does 
 or not ? " 
 
 " Of course no one can tell what she thinks, but it is 
 reasonable to suppose that she would like to see her 
 sister." 
 
 " Oh, yes, it is reasonable to suppose almost anything 
 when you start out on that line ; but it's not common 
 sense to act upon almost any supposition. Of course, 
 
 159
 
 160 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 the old lady can live but a short time, and I think that 
 if she were given her own choice she would prefer to 
 die in her own bed. I shall advise Brooks not to let 
 her go." 
 
 " I hope you'll not do that," said Henry, and he spoke 
 with an eagerness that caused the merchant to give him 
 a look of sharp inquiry. " I hope that you'll not seek 
 to deprive the sister, who I presume is a very old 
 woman, of the pleasure of sheltering one so closely 
 related to her. The trip may be fatal, and yet it might 
 be a benefit. At any rate don't advise Brooks not to 
 let her go." 
 
 "Oh, it's nothing to me," Witherspoon replied, "and 
 I didn't suppose that it was so much to the rest of you. 
 How I do miss that old man ! " he added after musing 
 for a few moments. " The peculiar laugh he had when 
 pleased became a very distressing cough whenever he 
 fancied that his expenses were running too high, and 
 every day I am startled by some noise that sounds like 
 his hack, hack ! And just as frequently I hear his 
 good-humored ha, ha ! He had never gone away during 
 the summer, but he told me that this summer he was 
 going to a watering-place and enjoy himself. ' And, 
 Witherspoon,' he said, ' I'm going to spend money right 
 and left.' Picture that old man spending money either 
 right or left. He would have backed out when the 
 time came. Some demand would have kept him at 
 home." 
 
 "His will leaves everything to his wife, I believe," 
 Henry remarked. 
 
 " Yes, with the proviso that at her death it is to go to 
 Mrs. Brooks. Brooks has already taken Colton'.-
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 161 
 
 place in the store, and now the question is, Who can fill 
 Brooks' place ? " 
 
 " I don't think you will have any trouble in filling 
 it," Henry replied. "No matter who drops out, the 
 affairs of this life go on just the same. A man becomes 
 so identified with a business that people think it 
 couldn't be run without him. He dies, and the busi- 
 ness improves. " 
 
 "Yes, it appears so," Witherspoou admitted; "but 
 what I wanted to get at, coming straight to the point, 
 is this : I need you now more than ever before. One 
 of the penalties of wealth is that a rich man is forced 
 constantly to fumble about in the dark, feeling for 
 some one whose touch may inspire confidence. That's 
 the position I'm in." 
 
 "You make a strong appeal," said Henry, "far 
 stronger than any personal advantages you could point 
 out to me." 
 
 " But is it strong enough to move you ? " 
 
 "It might- be strong enough to move me to a 
 sacrifice of myself, and still fail to draw me into a will- 
 ingness to risk the opinion you have expressed of what 
 you term my manliness. As a business man I know 
 that I should be a failure, and then I'd have your pity 
 instead of your good opinion. Let me tell you that I 
 am a very ordinary man. I haven't the quickness 
 which is a business man's enterprise, nor that judgment 
 which is his safeguard. My newspaper is a success, 
 but it is mainly because I have a capable man in the 
 business office. It grieves me to disappoint you, and I 
 will take an oath that if I felt myself capable Fd cheer- 
 fully give up journalism and place myself at your 
 service."
 
 162 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 "Father," said Mrs. Witherspoon and anxiously 
 she had been watching her husband "I don't see 
 what more he conld say." 
 
 "He has said quite enough," Witherspoon replied. 
 
 " But you are not angry, are you, papa ? " Ellen 
 asked. 
 
 "No, Fmhurt." 
 
 "Fm very sorry," said Henry, "but permit me to say 
 that a man of your strength of mind shouldn't be hurt 
 by a present disappointment that may serve to prevent 
 a possible calamity in the future." 
 
 " High-sounding nonsense. I could pick up almost 
 any bootblack and make a good business man of him. " 
 
 " But you can't pick up almost any boy and make a 
 good bootblack of him. The bootblack is already a 
 business man in embryo." 
 
 Witherspoon did not reply to this statement. He 
 mused for a few moments and then remarked : " If it 
 weren't too late we might make a preacher of you." 
 
 Mrs. Witherspoon's countenance brightened. " I am 
 sure he would make a good one," she said. " My grand- 
 father was a minister, and we have a book of his ser- 
 mons now, somewhere. If you want it, my son, I will 
 get it for you." 
 
 "Not to-night, mother." 
 
 " I didn't mean to-night. Ellen, what are you gig- 
 gling at ? " 
 
 " Why, mother, he would rather smoke that old black 
 pipe than to read any book that was ever printed." 
 
 " When I saw the pipe that had robbed Kittymunks of 
 his coat," said Henry, "I thought of my pipe tied with 
 a ribbon."
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 163 
 
 During the remainder of the evening Witherspoon 
 joined not in the conversation. He sat brooding, and 
 when bedtime came, he stood in his accustomed place 
 on the hearth-rug and wound his watch, still appearing 
 to gaze at something far away.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 HENRY'S INCONSISTENCY. 
 
 ONORTING March came as if blown in off the icy 
 ^ lake, and oozy April fell from the clouds. How 
 weary we grow of winter in a cold land, and how loath 
 is winter to permit the coming of spring ! May stole 
 in from the south. There came a warm rain, and the 
 next morning strips of green were stretched along the 
 boulevards. 
 
 Nature had unrolled double widths of carpet during 
 the night, and at sunset a yellow button lay where 
 the ground had been harsh so long a dandelion. 
 An old man, in whom this blithe air stirred a recol- 
 lection of an amative past, sat on a bench in the 
 park, watching the flirtations of thrill-blooded youth, 
 and pale mothers, housed so long with fretful children, 
 turned loose their cares upon the grass. It was a 
 lolling-time, a time to lose one's self in the blue above, 
 or sweetly muse over the green below. 
 
 One night a hot wind came, and the next morning 
 was summer. The horse that had drawn coal during 
 the winter, now hitched to an ice wagon, died in the 
 street. The pavements throbbed, the basement restau- 
 rants exhaled a sickening air, and through the grating 
 was blown the cellar's cool and mouldy breath; and 
 the sanitary writer on the editorial page cried out: 
 " Boil your drinking-water ! "
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 165 
 
 It was Withcrspoon's custom, during the heated 
 term, to take his wife and his daughter to the seaside, and 
 to return when the weather there became insufferably 
 hot. It was supposed that Henry would go, but when 
 the time came he declared that he had in view a piece 
 of work that must not be neglected. AVitherspoon 
 recognized the urgency of no work except his own. 
 " What, you can't go ! " he exclaimed. " What do you 
 mean by ' can't go ' ? " 
 
 " I mean simply that it is not convenient for me to 
 get away at this time." 
 
 " And is it your scheme now to act entirely upon your 
 own convenience ? Can't you sometimes pull far 
 enough away from yourself to forget your own con- 
 venience ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, but I can't very well forget that on this 
 occasion it is almost impossible for me to get away. Of 
 course you don't understand this, and I am afraid that 
 if I should try I couldn't make it very clear to you." 
 
 "Oh, you needn't make any explanation to me, I 
 assure you. I had planned an enjoyment for your 
 mother and sister, and if you desire to interfere with 
 it, I have nothing more to say." 
 
 "I have no business that shall interfere with their 
 enjoyment," Henry replied. "I'm ready to go at any 
 time." 
 
 The next day Witherspoon said : " Henry, if you 
 have decided to go, there is no use of my leaving 
 home." 
 
 "Now there's no need of all this sacrifice," Mrs. 
 Witherspoon protested, "for the truth is I don't want 
 to go anyway. During the hot weather I am never so 
 comfortable anywhere as I am at home. My son, you
 
 166 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 shall not go on my account ; and as for Ellen, she can 
 go with some of our friends. But, father, I do think 
 that you need rest. " 
 
 "Very true," he admitted, "but unfortunately we 
 can't drop a worry and run away from it." 
 
 "But what is worrying you now?" 
 
 "Everything. Kothing goes on as it should, and 
 every day it seems that a new annoyance takes hold of 
 me." 
 
 " In your time you have advised many a man to be 
 sensible," said Henry, "and now if you please, permit 
 a man who has never been very sensible to advise you." 
 Witherspoon looked at him. "My advice is, be sen- 
 sible." 
 
 In a fretful resentment Witherspoon jerked his 
 shoulder as if with muscular force he sought a befitting 
 reply, but he said nothing and Henry continued : 
 " This may be impudence on my part, but in impudence 
 there may lie a good intention and a piece of advice 
 that may not be bad. The worry of a strong man is a 
 sign of danger. The truth is that if you keep on this 
 way you'll break down." 
 
 "Xone of you know what you are talking about," 
 Witherspoon declared. " I'm as strong as I ever was. 
 I'm simply annoyed, that's all." 
 
 " Why don't you see the doctor ? " his wife asked. 
 
 " What do I want to see him for ? What does he 
 know about it ? Don't you worry. I'm all right." 
 
 His fretfulness was not continuous. Sometimes his 
 spirits rose to exceeding liveliness, and then he laughed 
 at the young man and joked him about Miss Miller. 
 But a single word, however lightly spoken, served to 
 turn him back to peevishness. One evening Henry
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 167 
 
 remarked that he was compelled to leave town on the 
 day following and that he might be absent nearly a 
 week. 
 
 " Why, how is this ? " Witherspoon asked, with a 
 sudden change of manner. "The other day you almost 
 swore that it was impossible for yon to leave home, and 
 now yon are compelled to go. What do you mean ? " 
 
 "I have business out of town, and it demands my 
 attention." 
 
 " Business out of town. The other day you despised 
 business ; now you've got business out of town. I'll 
 take an oath right now that you are the strangest mor- 
 tal I ever struck." 
 
 "I admit the appearance of inconsistency," Henry 
 replied. 
 
 "And I know the existence of it," Witherspoon 
 rejoined. 
 
 " You think so. The truth is that the affair I now 
 have on hand had something to do with my objecting 
 to leave town last week." 
 
 " Why don't you tell me what it is ? " 
 
 "I will when the time is ripe." 
 
 The merchant grunted. "Is it a love affair ?" 
 
 Mrs. Witherspoon became newly concerned. "In 
 one sense, yes," Henry answered. "It is the love of 
 justice." 
 
 Witherspoon called his wife's attention by clearing 
 his throat. " Madam, I may be wrong, but it strikes 
 me that your son is crazy. Good night." 
 
 Henry left town the next morning. He went to New 
 Jersey.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 WORE A ROSE OK HIS COAT. 
 
 HENRY was absent nearly a week, and upon return- 
 ing he did not refer to the business that had so 
 peremptorily called him away. 3Irs. AVitherspoon still 
 had a fear that it might be a love affair, and Ellen had 
 a fear that it might not be. To keep the young 
 woman's interest alive a mystery was necessary, and 
 to free the mother's love from anxiety unrestrained 
 frankness was essential. And so there was not enough 
 of mystery to thrill the girl nor enough of frankness to 
 satisfy the mother. In this way a week was passed. 
 
 "I don't see why you make so much of it," Wither- 
 epoon said to his wife. " Is there anything so strange 
 in a young man's leaving town ? Do you expect him to 
 remain forever within calling distance ? He told you 
 that you should know in due time. What more can 
 you ask ? You are foolishly worried over him, and 
 what is there to worry about ? " 
 
 "I suppose I am," she answered, "but I'm so much 
 afraid that he'll marry some girl that I shall not 
 like." 
 
 " It's not only that, Caroline. You are simply afraid 
 that he will marry some girl. The fear of not liking 
 her is a secondary anxiety." 
 
 " But, father, you know " 
 
 "Oh, yes, I know. But he is a man presumably," 
 he added to himself "and your love cannot make him 
 
 1 68
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 169 
 
 a child. It is true that we were robbed of the pleasure 
 his infancy would have afforded us, but it's not true that 
 there now exists any way by which that lost pleasure 
 can be supplied. As for myself, I regret the necessity 
 that compels me to say that he is far from being a com- 
 fort to me. What has he brought me ? Nothing but 
 an additional cause for worry." 
 
 "Father, don't say that !" 
 
 " But I am compelled to say it. I have pointed out a 
 career to him and he simply bats his eyes at it. He is 
 the most peculiar creature I ever saw. Oh, I know he 
 has gone through enough to make him peculiar ; 1 
 know all about that, but I don't see the sense of keep- 
 ing up that peculiarity. He is aimless, and he doesn't 
 want an aim urged upon him." 
 
 "But, father, he has made his newspaper a success." 
 
 "Ah, but what does it amount to ? Within ten years 
 he might make a hundred thousand dollars out of it, 
 but" 
 
 "Oh, surely more than that," she insisted. 
 
 " Well, suppose he does make more than that ; say 
 bhat he may make two hundred thousand. And even 
 then what does it amount to in comparison with what I 
 offer ? " 
 
 "But you know he wants to be independent." 
 
 " Independent ! " he repeated. " I'll swear I don't 
 understand that sort of independence." 
 
 "Well," she said, with a consoling sigh, "it will come 
 out all right after a while." 
 
 They were sitting in Mrs. Witherspoon's room. The 
 footman announced that Mr. Brooks was waiting in the 
 library. Witherspoon frowned. 
 
 "You needn't see him, dear," said his wife.
 
 170 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 " Yes, I will. But I am tired and don't care to dis- 
 cuss business affairs. Of late he brings nothing but 
 bad news." 
 
 The manager was exquisitely dressed and wore a rose 
 on the lapel of his coat. " I am on my way to an enter- 
 tainment at the Yacht Club," said he, when the 
 merchant entered the library, " and I thought I'd drop 
 in for a few moments." 
 
 "I'm glad you did," Witherspoon replied. "Sit 
 down." 
 
 "I haven't long to stay," said Brooks, seating himself. 
 " I am on one of the committees and must be getting 
 over. Is your son going ? " 
 
 " I don't know. He hasn't come home yet. " 
 
 "He was invited," said Brooks. 
 
 "That doesn't make any difference," Witherspoon 
 replied. " He appears to pay but little attention to invi- 
 tations, or to anything else, for that matter. Spends the 
 most of his time at the Press Club, I think." 
 
 "That's singular." 
 
 "Very," said Witherspoon. 
 
 " I was there the evening they gave a reception to 
 Patti, some time ago," Brooks remarked, "but I didn't 
 see anything so very attractive about the place." 
 
 "I suppose not," Witherspoon replied, and then he 
 added : "That's Henry now, I think." 
 
 Henry came in and was apparently surprised to see 
 Brooks. "I have been detained on account of busi- 
 ness," he remarked as he sat down. Brooks smiled. 
 Evidently he knew what was passing in Witherspoon's 
 mind. 
 
 "My affairs may be light to some people," Henry 
 said, "but they are heavy enough to me."
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 171 
 
 By looking serious Brooks sought to mollify the 
 effect of his smile. He had not taken the time to think 
 that in his sly currying of Witherspoon's favor he 
 might be discovered, but now that he was caught he 
 fell back upon the recourse of a bungling compliment. 
 "Oh, I'm sure," said he, "that your business is mosi 
 important. Your paper shows the care and ability with 
 which you preside over it. I think it's the best paper 
 in town, and advertisers tell me that they get excellent 
 returns from it." Here he caught Witherspoon's eye 
 and hastened to add : " Still, I believe that your place 
 is with us in the store. You could soon make yourself 
 master of every detail." 
 
 "But we will not talk about that now," Witherspoon 
 spoke up. 
 
 " Of course not ; but I merely mentioned it to show 
 my belief in your son's abilities." 
 
 The footman appeared at the door. " Two gentle- 
 men wish to see Mr. Brooks." 
 
 " Who are they ? " AVitherspoon asked. 
 
 "Wouldn't give me their names, sir." 
 
 " Some of the boys from the club," said Brooks. 
 "Well, I must bid you good evening." 
 
 "There was something I wanted to say to you," the 
 merchant remarked, walking down the hall with him. 
 
 Henry did not get up, but he listened eagerly. Pres- 
 ently he heard Witherspoon exclaim : " Great God ! " 
 And a moment later the merchant came rushing back. 
 
 " Where is my hat ? " he cried. " Henry, Brooks is 
 arrested on a charge of murdering Colton ! Where is 
 my hat ?" 
 
 Henry got up, placed his hand on Witherspoon's 
 shoulder, and said : "Sit down here, father."
 
 172 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 "Sit down the devil ! " he raved. "I tell you that 
 Brooks has been arrested. I am going down-town. " 
 
 "Not to-night. Sit down here." 
 
 " What do you mean, sir ! " 
 
 "I mean that you must not go down-town. You 
 can do no good by going, Brooks is guilty. There is 
 no doubt about it." 
 
 The old man dropped in his chair. Mrs. Witherspoon 
 came running into the room. "What on earth is the 
 matter ? " she cried. Witherspoon struggled to his 
 feet. Henry caught him by the arm. " Mother, don't 
 be alarmed. Brooks has simply been arrested." 
 
 " For the murder of Colton ! " Witherspoon hoarsely 
 whispered. His voice had failed him. 
 
 " Sit down, mother, and we will talk quietly about it. 
 There is no cause for excitement when you make up 
 your minds that the fellow is guilty, which you must do, 
 for Mrs. Colton has made a statement she saw Brooks 
 kill the old man." 
 
 Witherspoon dropped in his chair. His hands hung 
 listlessly beside him. Mrs. Witherspoon ran to him. 
 
 "Father!" 
 
 He lifted his hand, a heavy weight it seemed, and 
 motioned her away. "The Colossus is ruined !" he 
 hoarsely whispered. "Kuined. They'll try to mix me 
 up in it. Ruined ! " 
 
 " You can't be mixed up in it, and the Colossus will 
 not be ruined," Henry replied. 
 
 "Yes, ruined. You haven't brought me anything 
 but bad lack." 
 
 " I have brought you the best luck of your life. I 
 have helped you to get rid of a vampire. "
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 173 
 
 " You have ? " He turned his lusterless eyes upon 
 Henry. 
 
 " Yes, I have, and if you wir be patient for a few 
 moments I will make it plain to you. But wait, you 
 must not think of going down-town to-night. Will 
 you listen to me ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I was not the only one who suspected that Brooks 
 had something to do with the murder. Many people, 
 ia fact it seemed that almost everybody placed him 
 under suspicion. But there was no evidence against 
 him ; there was nothing but a strong supposition. 
 You remember one evening not long ago when Ellen 
 said that he objected to the preacher's coming to pray 
 for Mrs. Colton. This was enough to stamp him a 
 brute. Give that sort of a man the nerve and he won't 
 stop short of any cruelty or any crime." 
 
 "Are you going to tell me something or do you 
 simply intend to preach?" Witherspoon asked. His 
 voice had returned. 
 
 "Father, he's telling you as fast as he can." 
 
 "And I must tell it my own way," Henry said. 
 " That same evening I learned the name of the doctor 
 the great specialist employed by Brooks to treat the old 
 lady. But I inquired about him and found that he was 
 simply a cheap quack. This was additional cause for 
 suspicion. I called on a detective and told him that 
 1 suspected Brooks. At this he smiled. Then I said 
 that if he would agree to give half the reward to any 
 charity that I might name, in the event of success, I 
 would submit my plan, and then he became serious. I 
 convinced him that I had not only a plausible but a 
 direct clue, and he agreed to my proposal. I then told
 
 174 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 him about the doctor ; I expressed my belief that the 
 old woman must know something and urged that this 
 might be brought out if we could get her away and 
 place her under the proper treatment. Well, we 
 learned that she had a sister living in New Jersey. 
 The detective went to see her, and you know the result 
 the old lady's removal. Recently we received word 
 that she was so much improved that she could mumble 
 in a way to be understood, and last week the detective 
 and I went to see her. This was my apparently incon- 
 sistent business out of town." 
 
 "But tell us what she said," Witherspoon demanded. 
 
 "Her deposition is in the hands of the law." He 
 said this with a sly pleasure Witherspoon had so often 
 spoken of the law as if it were his agent. "I can 
 simply tell you," Henry continued, "that she saw 
 Brooks when he shot the old man." 
 
 "But how can that be? Brooks and his wife ran 
 into the room at the same time. They were together." 
 
 "Yes, they ran into the room together, and Brooks 
 had presumably just jumped out of bed. But be that 
 as it may, Mrs. Colton saw him when he shot the old 
 man. And if he is guilty, why should you defend 
 him?" 
 
 Witherspoon got up. "You are not going down- 
 town, father," his wife pleaded. "George, you must 
 not go ! " 
 
 "Fm not going, Caroline." He began to walk up 
 and down the room, but not with his wonted firmness 
 of step. They said nothing to him ; they let him walk 
 in his troubled silence. Turning suddenly he would 
 sometimes confront Henry and seem about to denounce 
 him ; and then he was strong. But the next moment,
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 174 
 
 and as if weakened by an instantaneous failure of vital 
 forces, he would helplessly turn to his wife as though 
 she could give him strength. 
 
 "Don't let it worry you so, father," she begged of 
 him ; " don't let it worry you so. It will come out all 
 vight. Nobody can fasten any blame on you." 
 
 "Yes, they will yes, they will, the wretches. They 
 hate me ; they bleed me every chance they get, and now 
 they want to humble me ruin me. Nobody can ever 
 know what I have gone through. Defend him ! " he 
 exclaimed. " I hope they will hang him. I suspected 
 him, and yet I was afraid to, for in some way it seemed 
 to involve me I don't know how. But I knew that the 
 wretches would fix it up and ruin the Colossus. For 
 weeks and weeks it has been gnawing me like a rat. 
 But what could I do ? I was afraid to discharge him. 
 He's got a running tongue. But what have I done ? " 
 he violently asked himself. "He took Colton's place 
 held Colton's interest. I could do nothing. Some- 
 times I felt that he was surely innocent. But I fancied 
 that I could hear mutterings whenever I passed people 
 in the street, and the rat would begin ibs gnawing 
 again. He will drag us all down." His voice failed 
 him, and he sank in his chair. " Ruined ! The Colossus 
 is ruined ! " he hoarsely whispered. 
 
 "If you would stop to think," said Henry, "you 
 would know that your trouble is mostly physical. Your 
 nerves are unstrung. The public is not so willing to 
 believe any story that Brooks may tell. The Colossus 
 will not be injured. But I know that you place very 
 little faith in what I say." The merchant looked at 
 him. " But mark my words : Your standing will not 
 be lowered the Colossus will not show any ill effect.
 
 176 TEE COLOSSUS. 
 
 It is too big a concern to be thus mined. People trade 
 there for bargains, and not out of sentiment. In a short 
 time Brooks will be forgotten. It is perfectly clear 
 to me." 
 
 " Is it ? " he asked, with eagerness. " Is it clear to 
 you?" 
 
 "Yes, perfectly." 
 
 " Then make it clear to me. You can't do it, don't 
 you see ? You can't do it." 
 
 "Yes, he can, father; yes, he can," Mrs. Wither- 
 spoon pleaded. " It is perfectly clear to me. You will 
 look at rt differently to-morrow. Come, now, and lie 
 down. S'eep will make it clear. Come on, now." 
 
 She too k hold of his arm. With a helpless trust he 
 looked U;j at her. "Come on, now." He lifted his 
 heavy bauds, got up with difficulty and suffered her to 
 lead Mir away.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 IMPATIENTLY WAITING. 
 
 WHILK it was yet dark, and long before the dimply 
 lake had caught a glint from the coming sun, 
 Witherspoon asked for the morning papers. At brief 
 periods of troubled sleep during the night he had fan- 
 cied that he was reading of the wreck of the Colossus 
 and of his own disgrace ; <md when he was told that 
 the papers had not come, that it was 100 early for them, 
 lie said: "Don't try to keep them back. I am pre- 
 pared." He wanted to get up and put on his clothes, 
 but his wife begged him to remain in bed. 
 
 " Was the doctor here ? " he asked. 
 
 "Yes, don't you remember telling him that Brooks 
 had been arrested ? " 
 
 " No, I don't remember anything but a bad taste in 
 ,ny mouth. I know him ; he leaves a bad taste as his 
 visiting-card. What did he say ? Wasn't he delighted 
 to have a chance at me ? " 
 
 " He said that if you keep quiet you will be all right 
 in a day or two." 
 
 " Did anybody else come ? " 
 
 "Yes, I think so." 
 
 " Reporters ? " he asked. 
 
 "Yes, I think so ; but Henry saw them." 
 
 " Hum ! I suppose he will be known now as Wither* 
 spoon the detective." 
 
 77
 
 in THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 "No; the part h took will be kept a profound 
 secret." 
 
 "I hope so ; but don't you think he would rather be 
 known as some sort of freak ? " 
 
 "No, dear. You do him an injustice." 
 
 "But does he do me a jtistice? He's got to pay back 
 every cent I advanced on that newspaper deal." 
 
 " We will attend to that, father." 
 
 " We will. You are to have nothing to do with it." 
 
 "I mean that he will." 
 
 " That's different. I'll take the thing away from him 
 the first thing he knows. I'm tired of his browbeating. 
 Isn't it time for those papers ? " 
 
 "Not quite." 
 
 " Have they stopped printing them ? Are they hold- 
 ing back just to worry me now that they've got me 
 down ? Where's Henry ? " 
 
 " He has just gone out to wait for the carrier-boy. 
 He's coming now, I think." 
 
 Henry came in with the morning papers. " What do 
 they say ? " Witherspoon eagerly asked. He flounced 
 up, and drawing the covers about him, sat on the edge 
 of the bed. 
 
 "I'll see," Henry answered. 
 
 "But be quick about it. Great goedaess, I can't 
 wait all day." 
 
 "There's so much that I can't tell it in a breath." 
 
 " But can't you give me the gist of it ? Call yourself 
 a newspaper man and can't get at the gist of a thing." 
 
 " Be patient a moment and I will read to you." 
 
 During more than an hour Witherspoon sat, listen- 
 ing ; and wli3n the last paper had been disposed cf, he 
 said : " Why, that isn't so bad. They don't mix me
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 179 
 
 up in it after all. What was that ? Brooks seems to 
 be wavering and may make a confession ? But what 
 will he say ? That's the question. What will he 
 say ? " 
 
 " How can he say anything to hurt you ? " Mrs. 
 Witherspoon asked. 
 
 " He can't if he sticks to the truth. But will he ? He 
 may want to ruin the Colossus. I will not go near him. 
 They may hang him and let him rot. I will not go 
 near him. The truth is, I have been afraid of him. 
 The best of us have cause to fear the man we have 
 placed too much confidence in. Caroline, I'll get up." 
 
 " Not now, father. The doctor said you must not get 
 up to-day." 
 
 " But does he suppose I'm going to lie here and let 
 the Colossus run wild ? Got nobody to help me ; 
 nobody. " 
 
 " I will go down this morning and see that everything 
 starts off all right," said Henry. 
 
 " You will ? What do you know about it ? You 
 could have known all about it, but what do you know 
 now ? " 
 
 " I should think that the heads of the departments 
 understand their business ; and I hope that I can at 
 least represent you for a short time." 
 
 " For a short time ? Oh, yes, a short time suits you 
 exactly. Ellen could do that, and I'd send her if she. 
 were at home." Tae girl was at Lake Geneva. " Think 
 you can go down and say, ' Wish you would open this 
 door if you please ' ? Think yon can do that ? " 
 
 The mother put up her hands as though she would 
 protect her son against the merchant's feelingless re- 
 proach. For a time Henry sat looking hard in Wither-
 
 180 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 spoon's blood-shot eyes ; and a thought, hot and anger- 
 edged,, strove for utterance, but an appealing gesture, 
 a look from that gentle woman, turned his resentment 
 into these consoling words, " Don't worry. I think I 
 know my duty when it's put before me. The Colossus 
 shall not suffer." 
 
 How tenderly she looked at him. She made a mag- 
 nanimity of the cooling of his resentment and she gave 
 him that sacred reward a mother's gratefulness. 
 
 "All right," said the merchant. "Do the best you 
 can." 
 
 His quick discernment had caught the play between 
 Henry and Mrs. AVitherspoou. "Of course I don't 
 expect you to take my place. I want you merely to 
 show that the "Witherspoon family hasn't run away." 
 
 The doctor called and found his patient much im- 
 proved. "A little rest is all you need to bring you 
 about again," the physician said. "Your unsettled 
 nerves have made you morbid. Don't worry. Every- 
 thing will be all right." 
 
 The newspaper reports of the arrest of Brooks, 
 although they proceeded to arraign and condemn him, 
 had on Witherspoon's nervous system more of a reton- 
 ing effect than could have been brought about by a 
 doctor's skill. That Brooks might be guilty, had not 
 been, the merchant's fear ; but that he himself might 
 in some way be implicated, had been his morbid dread. 
 Now he could begin to recognize the truth that with s 
 black beast of his own creation he had frightened him- 
 self ; and he laughed with a nervous shudder. But 
 when the doctor was gone he again became anxious. 
 
 " Caroline, didn't he ask if there had ever been any 
 insanity in my family? "
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 181 
 
 "Why, no ; he didn't hint at such a thing." 
 
 " I must have dreamed it, then. But what makes me 
 dream such strange things ? I thought you told him 
 that my father had been a little off at times. Didn't 
 you ? " 
 
 "Why, of course not. You never told me that 
 there was ever anything wrong with your father, and 
 even if there was how should I know it ? " 
 
 " But there wasn't anything wrong with him, Caro- 
 line, and why should you say ' if there was/ " 
 
 " Now, father, I never thought of such a thing as 
 suspecting that there was, and please don't let that 
 worry you." 
 
 " I won't, but didn't Henry bring a paper and keep it 
 hidden until after I went to sleep ? " 
 
 "Xo, he read them all to you." 
 
 " I thought he brought in a weekly paper and read 
 something about a widow from Washington." 
 
 "No, he didn't." 
 
 After a time he dozed and then he began to mutter : 
 "It is easier to pay than to explain." 
 
 " What is it, dear ? " she asked, not noticing that he 
 dozed. 
 
 " Did you speak to me ? " he inquired, rousing him- 
 self. 
 
 " You said something about it's being easier to pay 
 than to explain," she answered. 
 
 " Did I ? Must have been dreaming. Has Ellen 
 come home ? " 
 
 " Not yet, but I'm looking for her. Of course she 
 started for home as soon as she could after hearing the 
 news." 
 
 "What time is it?"
 
 132 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 "Twenty minutes of four/' she answered, glancing 
 at the clock. 
 
 "I wonder why Henry doesn't come." 
 
 "He'll be here soon." 
 
 " Has any one heard from Mrs. Brooks ? " 
 
 " Xo. I would have gone over there, but I couldn't 
 leave you." 
 
 "You are a noble woman, Caroline." She was 
 arranging his pillow and he was looking up at her. 
 "You are too good for me." 
 
 "Please don't say that," she pleaded. 
 
 " I might as well say it as to feel it. Isn't it time 
 for Henry to come ? " 
 
 "Yes, I think so. He'll be here soon, I'm sure." 
 
 " I hope I shan't have to lie here to-morrow. I can't, 
 and that's all there is about it." 
 
 He lay listening with the nervous ear of eagerness until 
 so wearied by disappointing noises that he sank into 
 another doae.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 TOLD IT ALL. 
 
 TTTITHERSPOON started. "Ah, it's you. Did you 
 ' ' bring the evening papers ? " 
 
 "Yes, here they are," Henry answered. 
 
 " What do they say ? Can't you tell me ? Got the 
 papers and can't tell me what they say ? " 
 
 "They say a great deal," Henry replied. "Brooks 
 has made a confession." 
 
 In an instant Witherspoon sat on the edge of the 
 bed, with the covers jerked about him. He opened his 
 mouth, but no word came forth. 
 
 "When he was told that Mrs. Colton had made a 
 statement he gave up," said Henry. " The confession 
 is not a written one, but is doubtless much fuller than if 
 it were. I will take the Star's report. They are all 
 practically the same, but this one has a few pertinent 
 questions. I will skip the introduction. 
 
 " ' I confess/ said Brooks, ' that I killed the old man, 
 but I did not murder him. I was trying to keep him 
 from killing me. I had gone into a losing speculation 
 and was in pressing need of money. I knew that it 
 would be useless to ask him to help me ; in fact, I didn't 
 want him to know that I had been speculating, and I 
 decided to help myself. I knew that he kept money in 
 the safe at home ; I didn't know how much, but I 
 thought that it was enough to help me out, and I began 
 deliberately to plan the robbery. I knew that it would 
 have to ta done in the most skillful manner, fer the old 
 
 189
 
 184 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 man's love of money made him as sharp as a briar when 
 money was at stake ; and I was resolved to have no con- 
 federates to share the reward and afterward to keep me 
 in fear of exposure. I wrote a letter, and using the 
 first name that came in to my head, addressed it to "Dave 
 Kittymunks, General Delivery, Chicago." I don't know 
 where I picked up the name, and it makes no difference. 
 I ran up to Milwaukee, dropped the letter in a mail box 
 and was back here before any one knew that I was ont of 
 town. I disguised myself with black whiskers, went to 
 the postoffice and called for the letter, and took care that 
 the delivery clerk should notice me. Colton supposed 
 that none but members of his family knew of the safe at 
 home, and why a robber should know must be made 
 clear; so, wearing the same disguise, I called at the 
 house one day and told the servant in charge that I had 
 been sent to search for sewer-gas. I showed an order. 
 A shrewd colored man had been discharged on account 
 of some irregularities into which I had entrapped him, 
 and an ignorant fellow that had agreed to work for less 
 had just been put in his place. One evening when our 
 family visited the Witherspoons I perfected my arrange- 
 ments. I sawed the iron bars at the window and placed 
 the black coat, with the Kith m links letter in the pocket, 
 as if the sash had failed and caught it. It was neces- 
 sary that the coat should be found, and it was hardly 
 natural that it should be found lying in the yard. It 
 must appear that in his haste to get away the robber 
 was compelled to leave his coat, and this could not be 
 done unless he was forced to get out of it, leaving the 
 police to suspect that he had done so with a struggle. I 
 had torn one sleeve nearly off. But the mere falling of 
 the sash on the tail of the coat would not do, it would 
 pull out too easily. Then I thought of the pipe. I 
 arranged the safe so that with a chisel I could open it 
 easily it was an old and insecure thing, anyway and 
 then placed a ladder on the ground under the window. 
 Here there is a paved walk, so there was no necessity to 
 make tracks. Now, there was but one thing more, and 
 that was a noise to sound like the falling of the saeb , and
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 185 
 
 which was to wake the old man so that he might jump np 
 almost in time to catch the robber. I had almost for- 
 gotten this, and now it puzzled me. The vault-room, a 
 narrow apartment, is between the old man's room and 
 mine, and I could have left the window up, propped 
 with a stick, and from my window jerked out the prop, 
 but the cool air would have shown the old man that the 
 window was raised, and this would have ruined every- 
 thing. Finally I decided that the falling of my own 
 window both are old-fashioned and are held up by a 
 notched button would arouse him and that he would 
 think that the noise came from the vault-room. I 
 would prop it with the edge of the button so that a 
 slight pull on a string would throw it. But another 
 question then arose. The weather was cold, and why 
 should we have our window up so high ? How should 
 I explain to my wife ? I would build a roaring fire in 
 the furnace. That would heat the room too hot and 
 give me an excuse to raise the window. But she would 
 Ind it down. I could tell her that the room cooled off 
 anil that I put it down. But I was quibbling with my- 
 self. Everything was settled. The hall-door of the 
 vault-room is but a step from my own door, and was 
 kept fastened with a spring lock and a bolt and was 
 supposed never to be opened. I drew back the bolt 
 and the catch, and fixed the catch so that I could easily 
 spring it when I went out. When everything had thus 
 been arranged, I went to Witherspoon's to come home 
 with the folks. The sky was clouded and the night was 
 very dark. When we reached home the old man com- 
 plained of having eaten too much something he never 
 had cause to complain of when he ate at home and 
 said that he believed he would lie down. 
 
 " ' The window of the vault-room was never raised by 
 the old man, and was kept fastened down with an old- 
 time cast-iron catch. I had broken this off; but, 
 afraid that he might examine the window and the door, 
 I went with him to his room. And when he went into 
 the vault-room to light the gas, I stood in the door and 
 talked to him about his intended investment, and I
 
 186 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 talked so positively of the great profit he would surely 
 make that he looked at neither the door nor the window. 
 Everything had worked well. I bade him and the old 
 lady good night and went to niy own room. My wife 
 complained of the heat, and I raised the window, re- 
 marking that I would get up after a while and put it 
 down. How dreadfully slow the time was after I went 
 to bed ! And when I thought that every one must be 
 asleep, my wife startled me by asking if I had noticed 
 how unusually feeble her mother looked. I imagined 
 that some one was dragging the ladder from under the 
 window, and once I fancied that I heard the old man 
 call me. The thought, the possibility of committing 
 murder never occurred to me. The positive knowledge 
 that I should never be discovered and that I should get 
 every dollar of his money would not have tempted me 
 to kill him. I lay for a long time until I knew that 
 every one must be asleep. Then I carefully got out of 
 bed. I struck a chair, and I waited to see if my wife 
 had been awakened by the noise. No ; she was sound 
 asleep. I tied a string to the window button, got my 
 tools, which I had hidden in a closet and which were 
 maiuly intended for show after the robbery was dis- 
 covered, and softly stole out. The hall was dark. The 
 old man hated a gas-bill. I felt my way to the vault- 
 room door and gently pushed it open, a little at a time. 
 When I got inside I remembered that the very first 
 thing I must attend to during the excitement which 
 would follow the discovery of the robbery was to slip 
 the bolt back in its place. The gas appeared to be 
 burning lower than usual, and I wondered if the pros- 
 pect of parting with money enough to make the invest- 
 ment had driven the old man to one more turn of his 
 screw of economy. Although I knew how to open the 
 safe, for previous arrangement had made it easy, I 
 found it to be some trouble after all. But I got it 
 open and had taken out the money drawer when a noise 
 startled me. I sprang up, and there was the old man. 
 He was but a few feet from me. He had a pistol. I 
 saw it gleam in the dim light. I couldn't stand dis-
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 187 
 
 covery, and I must protect myself against being shot. 
 I knew that in the semi-darkness he did not recognize 
 me. All this came with a flash. I sprang upon him. 
 With one hand I caught the pistol, with the other 1 
 clutched his throat. I would choke him senseless and 
 run back to my room. He threw up one hand, threw 
 back his head and freed his throat. We were under 
 the gas jet. My hand struck the screw, and the light 
 leaped to full blaze. At that instant the pistol fired 
 and the old man fell. I wheeled about and was in the 
 hall ; I sprung the lock after me, and in a second I 
 was in my own room just as my wife, dazed with 
 fright, had jumped out of bed. "Come," I cried, 
 "something must have happened." And together we 
 ran into the old man's room. 
 
 " ' During the excitement which followed I forgot no 
 precaution ; I slipped the bolt back into place and 
 removed the string from the button of my own window. 
 My wife was frantic. 'I did not suspect that the old 
 woman had seen me, for I was not in the vault-room 
 an instant after the pistol fired, and before that it was 
 so dark that she could not have recognized me. If I 
 had thought that she did see me ' 
 
 " ' What would you have done ? ' the reporter asked. 
 
 " ' I don't know/ Brooks answered, ' but it is not 
 reasonable to suppose that I would have let her go away 
 from home. I acknowledge that I did not care to see 
 her recover now that I am acknowledging everything 
 for at best she could be only in the way, and natur- 
 ally, she would interfere with my management of the 
 estate. But if I had been anxious that she should die, 
 I could have had her poisoned. Instead, however, I 
 employed a quack, who I knew pretended to be a great 
 physician, and who I believed could do her no good. In 
 fact, I didn't think that she could live but a few days.' 
 After pausing for a moment he added, ' She must have 
 seen me just as the light blazed up, and was doubtless 
 standing back from the door. I didn't take any money/ 
 
 " ' But why didn't you take the money while the old
 
 188 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 man was away ? Then you would have run no risk of 
 killing him or of being killed.'' 
 
 " ' I could easily have done this, but he was so shrewd. 
 I wanted him to believe that he had almost caught the 
 robber. ' 
 
 " ' Then there is no such man as Dave Kittymunks/ 
 said the reporter. 
 
 " ' No/ Brooks answered. 
 
 " ' But Flummers, the reporter, said that he knew 
 him.' 
 
 .. . 
 
 I met Mr. Flummers one evening/ Brooks replied, 
 'and before we parted company I think that he must have 
 had in his mind a vague recollection of having seen such 
 a fellow. The public was eager, and that was a great 
 stimulus to Mr. Flummers/ 
 
 " ' Did you feel that you were suspected ? ' the re- 
 porter asked. 
 
 " ' Xot of having committed the murder, but I felt 
 that I was suspected of having had something to do 
 with it. But I hadn't a suspicion that any proof existed. 
 I could stand suspicion, especially as I should receive 
 large pay for it. A number of men in this city are 
 under suspicion of one kind or another, but it doesn't 
 seem to have hurt them a great deal. Their checks are 
 good. Men come back from the penitentiary and build 
 up fortunes with the money they stole. Their ham- 
 mered brass fronts, and colored electric lights are not 
 unknown to Clark Street/ 
 
 " ( But you suffered remorse, of course/ the reporter 
 suggested. 
 
 " ' I think that there is a great deal of humbug about 
 the remorse a man feels/ Brooks replied. ' I regretted 
 that I had been forced to kill the old man, for with all 
 his stinginess he was rather kind-hearted, but I had to 
 save my own life. It is true that I didn't have to com- 
 mit the robbery, but robbery is not a capital crime/ 
 
 " ' But the self -defense of a robber, when it results in 
 a tragedy, is a murder/ the reporter suggested. 
 
 " 'We'll see about that/ Brooks coolishly replied.
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 189 
 
 " ' Do yon make this confession with the advice of 
 your lawyer ?' 
 
 u ' No, but at the suggestion of my own judgment. 
 "When I was told that the old woman had seen the kill- 
 ing and that, of course, her deposition would be intro- 
 duced in court, I then knew that it was worse than use- 
 less to protest my innocence. Besides, as she saw it, 
 
 the tragedy was a murder, but, as I confess it' 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 " ' It is what ? ' the reporter asked. 
 
 " ' Well, that's for the law to determine. There should 
 always be some mercy for a man who tells the truth. I 
 have done a desperate thing I staked my future on it. 
 But I have associated with rich men so long that for me 
 a future without money could be but a continuation of 
 embarrassment. I have helped to make the fortunes of 
 other men, but I failed when I engaged in speculations 
 for myself. I had prospects, it is true, but I didn't 
 know but Coltoii had arranged his will so as to pre- 
 vent my using his money ; and I had reason to fear that 
 my wife was in touch with him/ 
 
 " ' Has she been to see you ? ' the reporter asked. 
 
 " ' That's rather an impertinent question/ Brooks 
 replied, 'but I may as well confess everything. We 
 haven't been getting along very well together. No, she 
 hasn't been to see me. Not one of my friends has called. 
 There, gentlemen, I have told you everything.'" 
 
 When the last word of the interview had been pro- 
 nounced, Witherspoon grunted and lay back with his 
 hands clasped under his head. 
 
 " What do you think of it ? " Henry asked. 
 
 "There's hardly any room for thinking." 
 
 But he did think, and a few moments later he said : 
 " Of all the cold-blooded scoundrels I ever heard of, he 
 takes the lead. And just to think what I have done 
 for him ! I don't think, though, that he has robbed us of 
 ttmch. He didn't have the handling of a great deal of
 
 190 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 cash. Still I can't tell. My, how sharp he is ! He 
 didn't mention the Colossus. But what difference 
 would it make ? " He sat up. ""What need I care how 
 often he mentions it ? The public knows me. Nobody 
 ever had cause to question my credit. Why should I 
 have been worried over him ? Henry, you are right ; 
 my trouble is the result of a physical cause. Caroline, 
 Pm going in to dinner with you."
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 POINTS OUT HER BROTHER'S DUTY. 
 
 IN the afternoon of the day that followed the publi- 
 cation of the confession Flummers minced his way 
 into the Press Club. He wore a suit of new clothes, 
 and although the weather was warm, he carried a silk- 
 faced overcoat. Before any one took notice of him he 
 put his coat and hat on the piano, and then, with a 
 gesture, he exclaimed : 
 
 " Wow ! " 
 
 " Why, here's Kittymunks ! Helloa, Kit ! " one man 
 shouted. " Have you identified Brooks ? " some one 
 else cried, and a roar followed. 
 
 For a moment Flummers stood smiling at this rail- 
 lery ; then suddenly, and as though he would shut out 
 a humiliating scene, he pressed his hands across his 
 eyes. But his hands flew off into a double gesture 
 into a gathering motion that invited every one to come 
 into his confidence, and solemnly he pronounced these 
 words : 
 
 "He made a monkey of me." 
 
 "I should say he did ! " Whittlesy cried. '"Oh, you'll 
 hold me in the hollow of your hand, will you ? " 
 
 Flummers looked at Whittlesy and scalloped the 
 forerunner of a withering speech ; but, thoughtful 
 enough suddenly to remember that at this solemn time 
 his words and his eyes belonged not to one man, but to
 
 JL92 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 the entire company, he withdrew his gaze from Whit- 
 tlesy, and in his broad look included every one present. 
 
 " He made a monkey of me. He stopped me on the 
 street one evening I had boned him for an advertise- 
 ment when I was running The Art of Interior Decora- 
 tion and was so polite that I said to myself: 'Papa, 
 here's another flip man thirsting for recognition. Put 
 him on your staff.' Well, we had a bowl or two at 
 Garry's, and the fir t thing I knew he began to remind 
 me that I remembered a fellow who must be Kitty- 
 munks, and I said, ' Hi, gi, here's a scoop.' And it was. 
 Oh, it's a pretty hard matter to scoop papa " (tapping 
 his head). "Papa knows what the public wants, and 
 he serves it up. Some of you dry-dock conservative 
 ducks would have let it go by, but papa is nothing if 
 not adventurous. Papa knows that without adventure 
 you make no discoveries. But, wow ! he did make a 
 monkey of me. Just think of a floor-walker making a 
 monkey of papa ! " He pressed his hand to his brow. 
 " Why, a floor- walker has been my especial delicacy he 
 has been my appetizer, my white-meat but, wow ! this 
 fellow was a gristle." 
 
 "Mr. Flummers," said McGlenn, "we all love you." 
 
 "Say, John, I owe you two dollars." 
 
 "No, Mr. Flummers, you don't owe me anything." 
 
 " But I borrowed two dollars from you, John, when 1 
 started The Bankers' Review" 
 
 "No man can borrow money from me, Mr. Flummers. 
 If he gets money from me, it's his and not mine. WL 
 all love you, Mr. Flummers, and your Kittymuuks 
 escapade, so thoroughly in keeping with our estimate of 
 you, has added strength to our affection. If you wish 
 to keep friends, Mr. Flummers, you must do nothing
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 193 
 
 which they could not forecast for you. The develop- 
 ment of hitherto undiscovered traits, of an unsuspected 
 and therefore an inconsistent strength, is a dash of cold 
 water in the face of friendship. We are tied to you by 
 a strong rope made of the strands of weaknesses, 
 Mr. Flummers." 
 
 "Oh, no." 
 
 " Yes, made of the fine-spun strands of weaknesses, 
 Mr. Flummers. It is better to be a joss of pleasing 
 indiscretion than to be a man of great strength, for the 
 joss has no enemies, but sooner or later the strong man 
 must be overthrown by the hoard of weaklings that 
 envy has set against him. Do you desire something to 
 drink, Mr. Flummers ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Now you place your feet on inconsistent and slippery 
 ground, Mr. Flummers. Kemember that in order to 
 hold our love you must not surprise us." 
 
 " But I can't drink now ; I have just had something 
 to eat." 
 
 "Beware, Mr. Flummers. Inconsiderate eating 
 caused a great general to lose a battle, and now you 
 are in danger. You may suffer superfluous lunch to 
 change our opinion of you, which means a withdrawal 
 of our love." 
 
 " Oh, wait a minute or two, John. But never mind. 
 Say, there, boy, bring me a little liquor. But, -say, 
 wasn't it funny that Detective Stavers should give ten 
 thousand dollars of that reward to the Home for the 
 Friendless ? I used to work for the Pinkertons, and I 
 know all those guys, and there's not one of the whole 
 gang that gives a snap for charity. There's a mystery 
 about it somewhere." 
 
 13
 
 194 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 " Probably you can throw some light on it as you did 
 on the Kittymunks affair/' "Whittlesy suggested. 
 
 Flummers gave him a scallop. " Papa still holds you 
 in the hollow of his hand. Here you are ; see ? " He 
 put his finger in the palm of his hand. "You are 
 right there ; see ? And when I want you, I'm going to 
 shut down, this way." He closed his hand. "And 
 people will wonder what papa's carrying around with 
 him, but you'll know all the time. " 
 
 " My," said Whittlesy, " what a dangerous man this 
 fellow would be if he had nerve ! Oh, yes, people will 
 wonder what you have in the hollow of your hand, and 
 sooner or later, they will find that you are carrying three 
 shells and a pea. Get out, Kittymunks. I'm afraid 
 of you too tough for me." 
 
 Flummers waved Whittlesy into oblivion, and con- 
 tinued : " Old Witherspoon gave up his check for 
 twenty thousand, and there the reward stops, for Mrs. 
 Brooks won't give anything for having her husband 
 caught. It has been whispered in the Star office 
 that Henry Witherspoon had something to do with the 
 detection of Brooks, and made Stavers promise that he 
 would give half the reward to charity. But I don't 
 believe it. Why should he want to give up ten thou- 
 sand ? But there's a mystery in it somewhere, and the 
 first thing you know papa'll get on the track of it. 
 Here, boy, bring that drink. What have you been 
 doing out there ? Have I got to drink alone ? Well, 
 I'm equal to any emergency." He shuddered as he 
 swallowed the whisky, but recovered instantly, and 
 with a circular movement, expressive of his satisfac- 
 tion, rubbed his growing paunch.
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 195 
 
 Witherspoon remained three days at home and then 
 resumed his place at the store. With a promptness in 
 which he took a pride, he sent a check to the detective. 
 He did this even before he went down to the Colossus. 
 The physician had urged him to put aside all business 
 cares, and the merchant had replied with a contempt- 
 uous grunt. He appeared to be stronger when he came 
 home at evening, and he joked with Ellen; he told her 
 that she had narrowly escaped the position of temporary 
 manager of the Colossus. They were in the library, 
 and a cheerfulness that had been absent seemed just to 
 have returned. Witherspoon went early to bed and 
 left Henry and Ellen sitting there. 
 
 " Don't you think he will be well in a few days ? " 
 the girl asked. 
 
 "Yes, now that his worry is locked in jail." 
 
 "That isn't so very bad," she replied, smiling at him. 
 " But suppose they hang his worry ? " 
 
 "It may be all the better." 
 
 "Mother and I went this afternoon to see Mrs. 
 Brooks," said the girl. " And she doesn't appear to be 
 crushed, either. I don't see why she should be they 
 wouldn't have lived together much longer anyway. Oh, 
 of course she's humiliated and all that, but if she 
 really cared for him she'd be heartbroken. She used 
 to tell me how handsome he was, but that was before 
 they were married. I think she must have found out 
 lately what she might have known at first that he 
 married her for money. Oh, she's a good woman 
 there's no doubt of that but she's surely as plain a 
 creature as I've ever seen." 
 
 "If I had thought that she loved him," said Henry, 
 " I should have hesitated a long time before seeking to
 
 196 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 fasten the murder on him. I may have only a vague 
 regard for justice, for abstract right is so intangible, 
 but I have a strong and definite sympathy." 
 
 "We all have/' she said. "Oh, by the way," she 
 broke off, as though by mere accident she had thought 
 of something, " you superintended the Colossus for two 
 whole days, didn't you ? " 
 
 " I didn't exactly superintend it, but I stood about 
 with an air of helpless authority." 
 
 " But how did you get along with your paper during 
 all that worry ? " she asked ; and before he answered 
 she added, "I don't see how you could write anything." 
 
 "Worry is a bad producer, but a good critic," Henry 
 replied. "And I didn't try to write much," he added. 
 
 She put her elbows on the arm of her chair, rested 
 her chin on her hand and leaned toward him. "Do 
 you know what Fve been thinking of ever since I came 
 home ? " she asked. 
 
 "Well," he answered, smiling on her, "as you 
 haven't told me and as I am not a mind-reader, I san't 
 say that I do." 
 
 "Must I tell yon?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And you won't be put out ? " 
 
 " Surely not. You wouldn't want to tell me il yon 
 thought it would put me out, would you ? " 
 
 "No, but I was afraid this might." She hesitated. 
 " I have been thinking that you ought to go into busi- 
 ness with father. Wait a moment, now, please. You 
 said you wouldn't be put out. You see how much he 
 needs you, and you ought to be willing to make a per- 
 sonal sacrifice. You" 
 
 He reached over and put his hand on her head. She
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 197 
 
 looked into his eyes. " Ellen, there is but one thing 
 that binds me to a past that was a hardship, but which 
 after all was a liberty ; and that one thing is the fact 
 that I am independent of the Colossus, the mill where 
 thousands of feet are treading. I have one glimpse of 
 freedom, and that is through the window of my office. 
 It isn't possible that you can wholly understand me, 
 but let me tell you one time for all that I shall have 
 nothing to do with the store." 
 
 She put his hand off her head and settled back in 
 her chair. "I thought you might if I asked you, but 
 I ought to have known that nothing I could say would 
 have any effect. You don't care for me ; you don't car 
 for any of us." 
 
 " Ellen, it is but natural that you should side with 
 father against me, and it is also natural that I should 
 decide in favor of myself. You may say that on my 
 part it is selfishness, and I may say that it is more just 
 than selfish. But you must not say that I don't care 
 for you." 
 
 " Oh, it is easy enough for you to say that you do 
 care for me," she replied. "It costs but a breath that 
 must be breathed anyway ; but if you really cared for me 
 you would do as I ask ycu as I beg of you." 
 
 "Well," and he laughed at her, "there is a charming 
 narrowness in that view, I must say. If I love you I 
 will grant whatever you may ask ; and if you love me 
 then what ? Shall I answer ?" 
 
 "Yes," she said, "as you seem to know what answer 
 will be most acceptable to you." 
 
 " No, not the answer most acceptable to me, but the 
 one that seems to be the most consistent. And if you 
 love me," he continued, in answer to the question, "you
 
 198 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 will not ask me to make a painful sacrifice." He 
 looked earnestly at her and added : " I think you'd bet- 
 ter call me a crank and dismiss the subject." 
 
 He expected her to take this as a humorous smoothing 
 of their first unpleasant ruffle, but if she did she 
 shrewdly deceived him, for she looked at him with the 
 eoberest of inquiry as she asked : 
 
 " Do you really think you are a crank ? " 
 
 " I sometimes think so," he answered. 
 
 " Isn't it simply that you take a pride in being differ- 
 ent from other people. Don't you strive to be odd ? " 
 
 "Are you talking seriously ?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Well, then, I will say seriously that I do take a 
 pride in being different from some people ? " 
 
 "Am I included?" 
 
 "Oh, nonsense, girl. What are you thinking 
 about ? " 
 
 "Oh, I know you don't care for any of us," she 
 whimpered. "You won't even let mother show her 
 love for you ; you try to surround yourself with a lordly 
 mystery." 
 
 " If I have a mystery it is far from a lordly one." 
 
 "But it's not far from annoying, I can tell you that." 
 
 "Don't try to pick a quarrel, little girl." 
 
 "Oh, I'm not half so anxious to quarrel as you are." 
 
 " All right ; if that's the case, we'll get along smoothly. 
 J-et your doll out of the little trunk and let us play with 
 her." 
 
 She got up and stood with her hands resting on the 
 back of the chair. "If I didn't have to like you, 
 Henry, I wouldn't like you a single bit. But some-
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 199 
 
 how I can't help it. It must be because I can't under- 
 stand you." 
 
 " Then why do you blame me for not making myself 
 plain, since your regard depends upon the uncertain 
 light in which you see me ?" 
 
 "'You are so funny," she said. 
 
 " Then you ought to laugh at me instead of scolding." 
 
 " Indeed ! But if I didn't scold sometimes you would 
 run over me ; and besides, we shouldn't have the hap- 
 piness that comes from making up again. Really, 
 though, won't you think about what I have said ?" 
 
 " I will think about you, and that will include all that 
 you have said and all that you may say." 
 
 " I oughtn't to kiss you good night, but after that I 
 suppose I must. There Mr. Ungratefulness. Good 
 night."
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 THE VEEDICT. 
 
 DURING the first few weeks of his imprisonment, 
 the murderer of old man Colton had maintained a 
 lightsome air, but as the time for his trial drew near 
 he appeared to lose the command of that self -hypnotism 
 which had seemed to extract gayety from wretched- 
 ness. To one who has been condemned to death there 
 comes a resignation that is deeper than a philosophy. 
 Despair has killed the nerve that fear exposed, and 
 nothing is left for terror to feed on. But Brooks had 
 not this deadened resignation, for he had a hope that 
 he might escape the gallows, and so long as there is a 
 hope there is an anxiety. He had refused to see his 
 wife, for he felt that in her heart she had condemned 
 him and executed the sentence ; but he was anxious to 
 see Witherspoon. He thought that with the aid of 
 that logic which trade teaches and which in its direct- 
 ness comes near being an intellectual grace, he could 
 explain himself to the merchant and thereby whiten 
 his crime, and he sent for him ; but the messenger 
 returned with a note that bore words which Brooks had 
 often heard Witherspoon speak and which he himself 
 so often had repeated : "Explain to the law." 
 
 The trial came. In the expectancy with which Chi- 
 cago looks for a new sensation, Brooks had been almost 
 forgotten by the public. His confession had robbed
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 201 
 
 his trial of that uncertainty which means excitement, 
 and there now remained but a formal ceremony, the 
 appointment of his time to die. The newspapers no 
 longer paid especial attention to him, and such neglect 
 depresses a murderer, for notoriety is his last intoxicant. 
 It seemed that an unwarranted length of time was 
 taken up in the selection of a jury, a deliberation that 
 usually exposes justice to many dangers ; and after this 
 the trial proceeded. The deposition of Mrs. Colton 
 was introduced. It was a brief statement, and after 
 leading up to the vital point, thus concluded: "I must 
 have been asleep some time, when my husband awoke 
 me. He said that he thought he heard a noise in the 
 vault-room. I listened for a few moments and replied 
 that I didn't think it was anything. But he got up 
 and took his pistol from under the pillow and went into 
 the vault-room. A moment later I was convinced that 
 I heard something, and I got up, and just as I got near 
 the door the light blazed up and at the same moment 
 there was a loud report as of a pistol ; and then I saw 
 my husband fall saw Mr. Brooks wheel about and 
 run out of the room. This is all I remember until I 
 found myself lying on the bed, unable to move or 
 speak." 
 
 Brooks set up a plea for mercy, and his lawyers were 
 strong in the urging of it, but when the judge delivered 
 his charge it was clear that the plea was not entertained 
 by the court. The jury retired, and now the court- 
 room was thronged. To idle "men there is a fascination 
 in the expected verdict, even though it may not admit of 
 the quality of speculation. The jurymen could not be out 
 long their duty was well defined ; but an hour passed, 
 and the crowd began gradually to melt away. Two
 
 202 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 hours and word came that the jury could not agree. 
 It was now dark, and the court was adjourned to meet 
 in evening session. But midnight struck, and still 
 there was no verdict. What could be the cause of this 
 indecision ? It was a mystery outside, but within the 
 room it was plain. One man had hung the jury. In 
 his community he was so well known as a sectarian that 
 he was called a hypocrite. He was not thought to be 
 strong except in the grasp he held upon bigotry, but 
 he succeeded in either convincing or browbeating eleven 
 men into an agreement not to hang Brooks, but to send 
 him to the penitentiary for life ; and this verdict was 
 rendered when the court reassembled at morning. 
 
 Witherspoon was sitting in his office at the Colossus 
 when Henry entered. Papers were piled upon the 
 merchant's desk, but he regarded them not. A boy 
 stood near as if waiting for orders, but Witherspoon 
 took no heed of him. He sat in a reverie, and as 
 Henry entered he started as if rudely aroused from 
 sleep. 
 
 " Have you heard the verdict ? " Henry asked. 
 
 "By telephone," Witherspoon answered. "Sit 
 down. " 
 
 " No, I must get over to the office. What do you 
 think of the verdict ? " 
 
 "If the law's satisfied I am," Witherspoon answered. 
 "But you wanted him hanged, didn't you ? " he added. 
 
 "No, but I wanted him punished. The truth is, I 
 hated the fellow almost from the first." 
 
 Witherspoon turned to the boy and asked : "What 
 do you want ? Oh, did I ring for you ? Well, you 
 may go. " And then he spoke to Henry : " You hate4 
 him."
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 203 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because he is a villain." 
 
 " But if you hated him from the first, you hated him 
 before you found out that he was a villain ; and that 
 was snap judgment. I try a man before I condemn 
 him." 
 
 " And I let a man condemn himself, and some men 
 do this the minute I see them." 
 
 "But a quick judgment is nearly always wrong." 
 
 " Yes, and yet it's better than a slow judgment that 
 allows itself to be imposed upon." 
 
 " Sometimes," Witherspoon agreed ; and after a short 
 silence he added : " I was just thinking of how that 
 fellow imposed on me, but I can't quite get at the cause 
 of my worry over him, and I don't understand why I 
 should have been afraid that he could ruin me. I want 
 to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the 
 exact truth without fear of giving offense : Have you 
 ever thought that at times my mind was unbalanced ? 
 Have you ? " 
 
 " You haven't been well, and a sick man's mind is 
 never sound, you know." 
 
 " That's all true enough ; but do I remind you very 
 much of your uncle Andrew ? " 
 
 "Yes, when you worry." 
 
 "I thought so. I've got to stop worrying; and I 
 believe that we have more control over ourselves than 
 we exercise. Gome back at noon and we'll go out 
 together." 
 
 "I'll be here," Henry replied. 
 
 Just before he reached the office Henry met John 
 Richmond, and together they stepped into a cigar-store.
 
 204 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 " I've been over to your office," said Richmond. "I 
 have important business with you." 
 
 " All right, John. Business with you is a pleasure. " 
 
 "I think this will be. This is the last day of Sep- 
 tember, and relying on my recollection, I know that 
 black bass are about ready to begin their fall campaign. 
 So I thought we'd better get on a train early to-morrow 
 morning and go out into Lake County. Now don't say 
 you are too busy, for I'm running away from a stack of 
 work as high as my head." 
 
 "I'll go." 
 
 "Good. We'll have a glorious day in the woods. 
 "We'll forget Brother Brooks and the fanatic who saved 
 his life ; we'll float on the lake ; we'll pick up nuts ; 
 we'll listen to the controversy of the blue jays, and the 
 flicker, flicker of the yellowhammers ; we'll study Mr. 
 "Woodpecker, whose judgment tells him to go south, 
 but who is held back by the promising sunshine. The 
 train leaves at eight. I'll be on hand, and don't you 
 fail." 
 
 " I won't. I'm only too anxious to get out of town. " 
 
 Shortly after Henry arrived at the office Miss Drury 
 came into his room. "Your sister was here just now," 
 she said. 
 
 "Was she?" 
 
 "Yes, she came to wait for the verdict." 
 
 "That reminds me. I intended to telephone, but 
 forgot it." 
 
 "She said she knew you wouldn't think of it." 
 
 " Did you quarrel ? " Henry asked. 
 
 " Did we quarrel ? Well, now, I like that question. 
 No, we didn't quarrel. I got along with her quite as 
 well as I do with her brother- She said that she had
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 205 
 
 often wondered who got up my department, but tnat no 
 one had ever told her." 
 
 " She may have wondered, but she never asked. So, 
 you see, I intend to rid myself of blame even at the 
 expense of my sister." 
 
 " Oh, I suppose she said it merely to put me in good 
 humor with myself." 
 
 " But wouldn't it have been more in harmony with a 
 woman's character if she'd given you a sly cut, a tiny 
 stab, to put you in ill humor with the world ? " 
 
 "I hope you don't mean that, Mr. "Witherspoon." 
 
 " Why ? "Would it make you think less of women ? " 
 
 "What egotism ! No, less of you." 
 
 "Oh, if that's the case 111 withdraw it will say that 
 I didn't mean it." 
 
 " That's so kind of you that I'm almost glad you said 
 it." 
 
 She went back to her work, but a few moments later 
 she returned, and now she appeared to be embarrassed. 
 "You must pardon me," she said. 
 
 " Pardon you ? What for ? " 
 
 " For speaking so rudely just now. You constantly 
 make me forget that I am working for you." 
 
 "That's a high compliment. But I didn't notice 
 that you spoke rudely." 
 
 "Yes, I said ' what egotism,' and I'm sorry." 
 
 " You must not be sorry, for if you meant what you 
 gaid, I deserved it." 
 
 "Oh, then you really did mean what you said about 
 women." 
 
 Henry laughed. " Miss Drury, don't worry over any- 
 thing I say ; and remember that I'm pleased whenever 
 you forget that you are working for me. You didn't
 
 206 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 know that I was instrumental in the arreat of Brooks^ 
 did yon?" 
 
 ' Why, no, I never thought of such a thing." 
 
 " You must keep it to yourself, but I was, and why ? 
 I hated him. Once he suggested to me that he would 
 like to have you take lunch with him. I told him that 
 you didn't go out with any one, and with coldblood- 
 edness he replied, 'Ah, she hasn't been here long.' I 
 hated him from that moment. Don't you see what a 
 narrow-minded fellow I am ? " 
 
 " Narrow-minded ! " 
 
 " Yes, to move the law against a man merely because 
 he had spoken lightly of of my friend." 
 
 She was leaning against the door-case and was looking 
 down. She dropped a paper. Henry glanced at the 
 window, which he called his loop-hole of freedom, for 
 through it no Colossus could be seen. He turned slowly 
 and looked toward the door. The girl was gone.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 A DAY OF REST. 
 
 "PARLY the next morning Henry and Richmond were 
 -t^ on a train, speeding away from the roar, the clang, 
 the turmoil, the smoke, the atmospheric streams of 
 stench, the trouble of the city. They saw a funeral 
 procession, and Richmond remarked : They have killed 
 a drone and are dragging him out of the hive, and as 
 they have set out so early they must be going to pay 
 him the compliment of a long haul." They prised 
 stations where men who had spent a quiet night at 
 home paced up and clown impatiently waiting for a train 
 to whirl them back to their daily strife. u They play 
 cards going m and coming out," said Richmond, "but 
 at noon they are eager to cut one another-'s throats. " 
 
 They ran through a forest, dense and wild-looking, 
 but in the wildness there was a touch of man's deceiv- 
 ing art. They crossed a small river and caught sight 
 of a barefooted boy trying to steal a boat. They sped 
 over the prairie and flew past an old Dutch windmill. 
 It was an odd sight, an un-American glimpse a wink 
 at a strange land. They commented on everything 
 that whirled within sight a bend in the road, a 
 crooked lane, a tumble-down fence. They were boys. 
 They talked about names that they held a prejudice 
 against, and occasionally one of them would say, "No, 
 I don't like a man of that name."
 
 208 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 "There," Eichmond spoke up, "I never knew a man 
 of that name that wasn't a wolf. But sometimes one 
 good fellow offsets a whole generation of bad names. I 
 never liked the name Witherspoon until I met you." 
 
 " How do you like DeGolyer ? " Henry asked. 
 
 " That's not so bad, but it isn't free from political 
 scandal. I rather like it strikes me that there might 
 be a pretty good fellow of that name. Let me see. 
 We'll get off about three miles this side of Lake Villa 
 and go over to Fourth Lake. The woods over there 
 are beautiful. " 
 
 "We should have insisted on McGlenn's coming," 
 said Henry. 
 
 "No," Kichmond replied, " the country is a bore to 
 John. Once he came out with me and found fault with 
 what he termed the loose methods of nature. I pointed 
 out a hill, and he said that it wasn't so graceful as a 
 mound in the park. I waved my hand toward a pastoral 
 stretch of valley, and he said, ' Yes, but it isn't Drexel 
 Boulevard/ Art is the mistress of John's mind. His 
 emotions are never stirred by a simple tune, but the 
 climax of an opera tumbles him over and over in 
 ecstasy. He is one of the truest of friends, and he is as 
 game as a brook trout. He has associated with drunk- 
 ards, but was never drunk ; and during his early days 
 in Chicago he lived with gamblers, but he came out an 
 honorable man." 
 
 "I have been reading his novels," said Henry, "and 
 in ; places he is as sharp as broken glass." 
 
 " Yes, but he is too much given to didacticism. Out 
 of mischief I tell him that he sets up a theory, calls 
 it a character, and talks through it. But he is strong, 
 and his technique is fine."
 
 TEE COLOSSUS. 209 
 
 "In Paris he would have been a great man," Henry 
 replied. 
 
 They got off at a milk station and strolled along a 
 road. A piece of newspaper fluttered on the ground 
 in front of them. 
 
 "There is just enough of a breeze to stir a scandal, * 
 said Richmond, treading upon the paper. 
 
 "When I find a newspaper in an out-of-the-way 
 place," Henry replied, "I fancy that the world has lost 
 one of its visiting-cards." 
 
 They stopped at a farm-house, engaged a boat, 
 and then went down to the lake. Nature wore a 
 thoughtful, contemplative smile, and the lake was a 
 dimple. A flawless day ; an Indian summer day, 
 gauzed with a glowing haze. And the smaller trees, in 
 recognition of this grape-juice time of year, had 
 adorned themselves in red. October, the sweetest and 
 mellowest stanza in God Almighty's poem the 
 dreamy, lulling lines between hot Summer's passion 
 and Winter's cold severity. On the train they had 
 been boys, but now they wero men, looking at the tran- 
 quil, listening to the immortal. 
 
 "Did you speak ?" Henry asked. 
 
 "Xo," said Richmond, " it was October. " 
 
 They floated out on the lake. Mud-hens, in their mid- 
 summer fluttering, had woven the rushes into a Gobe- 
 lin tapestry. The deep notes of the old frog were hushed, 
 but in an out-of-the-way nook the youngster was try- 
 ing his voice on the water-dog. A dragon-fly lighted 
 on a stake and flashed a sunbeam from his bedazzled 
 wing ; and a bright bug, like a streak of blue flame, 
 zigzagged his way across the smooth water. 
 
 An hour passed. "They won't bite," said Rich-
 
 210 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 mond. " In this pervading dreaminess they have for- 
 gotten their materialism." 
 
 " Probably they are tired of minnows," Henry replied. 
 "Suppose we try frogs." 
 
 " No, I have sworn never to bait with another frog. 
 It's too much like putting a human being on a hook. 
 The last frog I used reached up, took hold of the hook 
 and tried to take it out. No, I can't fish with a frog." 
 
 " But you would catch a bass, and you know that it 
 must hurt him in fact, you know that it's gener- 
 ally fatal." 
 
 "Yes, but it's his rapacity that gets him into trouble. 
 I don't believe they're going to bite. Suppose we go 
 over yonder and wallow under that tree. " 
 
 " All right. I don't care to catch a fish now anyway. 
 It would be a disturbance to pull him out. Our trip 
 has already paid us a large profit. "With one exception 
 it has been more than a year since I have seen anything 
 outside of that monstrous town. As long as the spirit 
 of the child remains with the man, he loves the country. 
 All children are fond of the woods the deep shade 
 holds a mystery. " 
 
 They lay on the thick grass under an oak. On one 
 side of the tree was an old scar, made with an axe, and 
 Henry, pointing to the scar, said : " To cut down this 
 tree was once the task assigned some lusty young fellow, 
 but just as he had begun his work, a neighbor came 
 along and told him that his strong arm was needed by 
 his country ; and he put down his axe and took up a 
 gun." 
 
 "That may be," Richmond replied. "Many a hero 
 has sprung from this land ; these meadows have many
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 211 
 
 times been mowed by men who went away to reap and 
 who were reaped at Gettysburg." 
 
 After a time they went out in the boat again, and 
 were on the water when the sun lost its splendor and, 
 hanging low, fired the distant wood-top. And now there 
 was a hush as if all the universe waited for the dozing 
 day to sink into sounder sleep. The sun went down, a 
 bird screamed, and nature began her evening hum. 
 
 In the darkness they lost the path that led through 
 the woods. They made an adventure of this, and pre- 
 tended that they might not find their way out until 
 morning. They wandered about in a laughing aimless- 
 ness, and there was a tone of disappointment in Rich- 
 mond's voice when he halted and said, "Here's the 
 road. " 
 
 They went to bed in the farmer's spare room, where 
 the subscription book, flashing without and dull within, 
 lay on the center table. A plaster-of-paris kitten, once 
 the idol of a child whose son now doubtless lay in a 
 national burial-ground, looked down from the mantel- 
 piece. There was the frail rocking-chair that was never 
 intended to be sat in, and on the wall, in an acorn- 
 studded frame, was a faded picture entitled "The 
 Return of the Prodigal." 
 
 Kichmond was sinking to sleep when Henry called 
 him. 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 "I didn't know you were asleep." 
 
 " I wasn't. What were you going to say ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing in particular was just going to ask 
 what you think of a man who lives a lie ? " 
 
 "I should think," Eichmond answered, "that he 
 must be a pretty natural sort of a fellow."
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 A MOTHER'S REQUEST. 
 
 AT dinner, the evening after Henry had returned 
 from the country, Ellen caused her mother to look 
 up by saying that Miss Miller's chance was gone. 
 
 "What do you mean?" Mrs. Witherspoon asked. 
 u I wasn't aware that Miss Miller ever had any chance, 
 as you are pleased to term it. But why hasn't she as 
 much chance now as she ever had ? " 
 
 "Because her opportunity has been killed." 
 
 " Was it ever alive ? " Henry asked. 
 
 " Oh, yes, but it is dead now. Mother, you ought to 
 see the young woman I saw at Henry's office the other 
 day. Look, he's trying to blush. Oh, she's dazzling 
 with her great blue eyes." 
 
 Mrs. Witherspoon's look demanded an explanation. 
 
 "Mother," said Henry, "she means our book- 
 reviewer. " 
 
 "I don't like literary women," Mrs. Witherspoon 
 replied, with stress in the movement of her head and 
 with prejudice in the compression of her lips. "They 
 are too too uppish, I may say." 
 
 "But Miss Drury makes no literary pretensions," 
 Henry rejoined. 
 
 "I should think not," Ellen spoke up. "I didn't 
 take her to be literary, she was so neatly dressed." 
 
 " When you cease so lightly to discuss a noble-minded
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 213 
 
 girl a friend of mine you will de me a great favor," 
 Henry replied. 
 
 "What's all this?" Witherspoon asked. He had 
 paid no attention to this trifling set-to and had caught 
 merely the last accent of it. 
 
 "Oh, nothing, I'm sure," Ellen answered. 
 
 " Very well, then, we can easily put it aside. Henry, 
 what was it you said to-day at noon about going away ? " 
 
 " I said that I was going with a newspaper excursion 
 to Mexico." 
 
 " Oh, surely, not so far as that ! " Mrs. "Witherspoon 
 exclaimed. 
 
 "It won't take long, mother." 
 
 " No, but it's so far ; and I should think that you've 
 had enough of that country." 
 
 "I've never been in Mexico." 
 
 "Oh, well, all those countries down there are just 
 the same, and I should think that when you have seen one 
 your first impression is that you don't want to see 
 another." 
 
 "They are restful at any rate," he replied. 
 
 " But can't you rest nearer home ? " 
 
 " I could, but I have made up my mind to go with 
 this excursion. I'll not be gone long." 
 
 " "When are you going to start ? " 
 
 "To-morrow evening." 
 
 "So soon as that?" 
 
 "Yes ; I I didn't decide until to-day." 
 
 " I don't like to have you go so far, but you know 
 best, I suppose. Are you going out this evening ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 "No."
 
 214 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 " Well, I wish to have a talk with you alone. Come 
 to ray sitting-room." 
 
 "With pleasure," he answered. 
 
 He thought that he knew the subject upon which she 
 had chosen to talk ; he saw that she was worried over 
 Miss Drury ; but when he had gone into her room and 
 taken a seat beside her, he was surprised that she began 
 to speak of Witherspoon's health. 
 
 "I know," she said, "that he is getting stronger, but 
 he needs one great stimulus he needs you. Please 
 don't look at me that way." She took his hand, and 
 it was limp in her warm grasp. " You know that I've 
 always taken your part." 
 
 "Yes, mother, God bless you." 
 
 " And you know that I wouldn't advise you against 
 your own interest you know, my son, that I love 
 you." 
 
 His hand closed upon hers, and his eyes, which for a 
 moment had been cold and rebellious, now were warm 
 with the light of affection and obedience. 
 
 "I will do what you ask," he said. 
 
 " God bless you, my son. " 
 
 She arose, and hastening to the door, called : 
 " George ! oh, George ! " 
 
 Witherspoon answered, and a moment later he came 
 into the room. " George, our son will take his proper 
 place." 
 
 Henry got up, and the merchant caught him by the 
 hand. " You don't know how strong this makes me ! " 
 He rubbed his eyes and continued : " This is the first 
 time I have seen you in your true light. You are a 
 strong man you are not easily influenced. Sit down; 
 I want to look at you. Yes, you are a strong man, and
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 215 
 
 yon will be stronger. I will bny the Colton interest 
 the Witherspoons shall be known everywhere. To-mor- 
 row we will make the arrangements." 
 
 "I start for Mexico to-morrow." 
 
 " Yes, but you'll not be gone long. The trip will be 
 good for you. Let me have a chair," he said. "Thank 
 you," he added, when a chair Ijad been placed for him. 
 " I am quite beside myself I see things in a new light." 
 He sat down, reached over and took Henry's hands ; he 
 shoved himself back and looked at the young man. 
 "Age is coming on, but I'll see myself reproduced." 
 
 "But not supplanted," Henry said. 
 
 " No, not until the time comes. But the time must 
 come. Ah, after this life, what then ? To be remem- 
 bered. But what serves this purpose ? A perpetua- 
 tion of our interests. After you, your son the man 
 dies, but the name lives. No one of any sensibility can 
 look calmly on the extinction of his name." 
 
 He arose with a new ease, and with a vigor that had 
 long been absent from his step, paced up and down 
 the room. " You will not find it a sacrifice, my son ; it 
 will become a fascination. It is not the love of money, 
 but the consciousness of force. The lion enjoys his own 
 strength, but the hare is frightened at his own weakness 
 and runs when no danger is near. Small tradesmen 
 may be ignorant, but a large merchant must be wise, for 
 his wisdom has made him large. Trade is the realiza- 
 tion of logic, and success is the fruit of philosophy. 
 People wonder at the achievements of a man whom they 
 take to be ignorant ; but that man has a secret intelli- 
 gence somewhere ; and if they could discover it they 
 would imitate him. Don't you permit yourself to feel 
 that any mental force is too high for business. The
 
 216 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 statesman is but a business man. Behind the great 
 general is the nation's backbone, and that backbone is 
 a financier. Let me see, what time is it ? " He looked 
 at his watch. " Come, we will all go to the theater." 
 
 "\Vitherspoon drove Henry to the railway station the 
 next evening, and during the drive he talked almost 
 ceaselessly. He complimented Henry upon the wise 
 slowness with which he had made up his mind ; there 
 was always too much of impulse in a quick decision. lie 
 pointed his whip at a house and said: "A lonely old 
 man lives there ; he has built up a fortune, but his 
 name will be buried with him." He spoke of his 
 religious views. There must be a hereafter, but in the 
 future state strength must rule ; it was the order of the 
 universe, the will of nature, the decree of eternity. 
 He talked of the books that he had read, and then he 
 turned to business. In a commercial transaction there 
 must be no sentiment ; financial credit must be guarded 
 as a sacred honor. Every debt must be paid ; every 
 cent due must be extracted. It might cause distress, 
 but distress was an inheritance of life. 
 
 To this talk the young man listened vaguely ; he said 
 neither yes nor no, and his silence was taken for close 
 attention. 
 
 When they arrived at the station, "Witherspoon got 
 out of the buggy and with Henry walked up and down 
 the concrete floor along the iron fence. It was here 
 that the stranger had wonderingly gazed at the crowd 
 as he held up young Henry's chain. 
 
 "Are you going through New Orleans ? " 
 
 "Yes; will be there one day." 
 
 "You are pretty well acquainted in that town, I 
 suppose."
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 217 
 
 "With the streets," Henry answered. 
 
 " I wish I could go with you, but I can't. Next year 
 perhaps I can get away oftener." 
 
 "Yes, if you have cause to place confidence in me." 
 
 "I have the confidence now; all that remains for you 
 to do is to become acquainted with the details of your 
 new position." 
 
 "And there the trouble may lie." 
 
 " You underrate yourself. A man who <5an pick up 
 an education can with a teacher learn to do almost any- 
 thing." 
 
 " But when I was a boy there was a pleasure in a les- 
 son because I felt that I was stealing it." 
 
 The merchant laughed and drew Henry closer to him. 
 " If we may believe the envious, the quality of theft 
 may not be lacking in your future work," he said. 
 
 After a short silence Henry remarked : "You say 
 that I am to perpetuate your name." 
 
 "Yes, surely." 
 
 " I suppose, then, that you claim the right to direct 
 me in my selection of a wife." 
 
 Again the merchant drew Henry closer to him. " Not 
 to direct, biit to advise," he answered. 
 
 "A rich girl, I presume." 
 
 "A suitable match at least." 
 
 " Suitable to you or to me ? " 
 
 "To both to us all. But we'll think about that 
 after a while." 
 
 "I have thought about it ; the girl is penniless." 
 
 "What! I hope you haven't committed yourself." 
 They were farther apart now. 
 
 " Not by what I have uttered and she may care
 
 218 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 nothing for me but my actions must have said that I 
 love her." 
 
 "What do you mean by ' love her' ? " the merchant 
 angrily demanded. 
 
 " Is it possible that you have forgotten ? " 
 
 " Of course not," he said, softening. " Who is she ? " 
 
 "A girl whose life has been a devotion an angel." 
 
 " Bosh ! That's all romance. Young man, this is 
 Chicago, and Chicago is the material end the culmin- 
 ation of the nineteenth century." 
 * " And this girl is the culmination of purity and divine 
 womanhood of love ! " He stopped short, looked at 
 Witherspoon, and said : " If you say a word against her 
 I will not go into the store I'll set fire to it and burn 
 it down." 
 
 They were in a far corner, and now, standing apart, 
 were looking at each other. The young man's eyes 
 snapped with anger. 
 
 "Come, don't fly off that way," said the merchant. 
 "You may choose for yourself, of course. Oh, you've 
 got some of the old man's pigheadedness, have you ? 
 All right ; it will keep men from running over you." 
 
 He took Henry's arm, and they walked back toward 
 the gate. 
 
 "I won't say anything to your mother about it." 
 
 "You may do as you like." 
 
 " Well, it's best not to mention it yet a while. Will 
 you sell your newspaper as soon as you return ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " All right Then there'll be nothing in the way. 
 Your train's about ready. Take good care of yourself, 
 and come back rested. Telegraph me whenever you 
 can. Good-by."
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 A MOMENT OF ARROGANCE. 
 
 TJENRY wandered through the old familiar streets, 
 -LA How vividly came back the years, the dreary long 
 ago ! Here, on a door-step, he had passed many a nod- 
 ding hour, kept in half-consciousness by the clank of 
 the printing-press, waiting for the dawn and his bundle 
 of newspapers. No change had come to soften the truth 
 of the picture that a by-gone wretchedness threw upon 
 his memory. The attractive fades, but how eternal is 
 the desolate ! Yonder he could see the damp wall where 
 he used to hunt for snails, and farther down the narrow 
 street was the house in which had lived the old Italian 
 woman. "You think I'm a stranger," he mused, as he 
 passed a policeman, " but I know all this. I have been 
 in dens here that yon have never seen." 
 
 He went to the Foundlings' Home and walked up 
 and down in front of the long, low building. An old 
 woman, dragging a rocking-chair, came out on the 
 veranda and sat down. He halted at the gate, stood 
 for a moment and then rang the bell. A negro opened 
 the gate and politely invited him to enter. The old 
 woman arose as he came up the steps. 
 
 "Keep your seat, madam." 
 
 " Did you want to see anybody ? " she asked. 
 
 "No; and don't let me disturb you." 
 
 He gave her a closer look and thought that he remem 
 
 aig
 
 220 TEE COLOSSUS. 
 
 bered her as the woman who had taken him on her lap 
 and told him that his father was dead. 
 
 "Xo disturbance at all," she answered. "Is there 
 anything I can do for yon ? " 
 
 "Yes, I should like to look throngh this place." 
 
 " Very well, but you may find things pretty badly 
 tumbled up. "We're cleaning house. Come this way, 
 please." 
 
 He saw the corner in which he used to sleep, and there 
 was the same iron bedstead, with a fever-fretted child 
 lying upon it. He thought of the nights when he had 
 cried himself to sleep, and of the mornings when he lay 
 there weaving his fancies while a spider high above the 
 window was spinning his web. There was the same 
 old smell, and he sniffed the sorrow of his childhood. 
 
 " How long has this been here ? " he asked. 
 
 "He was brought here about two weeks ago." 
 
 " I mean the bedstead. How long has it been in this 
 corner ? " 
 
 " Oh, I can't say as to that. I thought you meant 
 the child. I've been here a long time, and I never saw 
 the bedstead anywhere else. It will soon be thirty years 
 since I came here. Do you care to go into any of the 
 other rooms ?" 
 
 "No, thank you." 
 
 They returned to the veranda. "W;:^'t yon sit 
 down ?" the old woman asked. 
 
 "No, I've but a few moments to stay. By the way, 
 some time ago I met a man who said that he had lived 
 here when a child. I was trying to think of his name. 
 Oh, it was a man named Henry DeGolyer, I believe. 
 Do you remember him ? " 
 
 " Yes, but it was a long time ago. I heard somebody
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 221 
 
 say that he lived in the city here, but he never came 
 out to see us. Oh, yes, I remember him. He was a 
 stupid little thing, but that didn't keep him from 
 being mean. He oughtn't to have been taken in here, 
 for he had a father." 
 
 " Did you know his father ? " 
 
 " Who ? John DeGolyer ? I reckon I did, and he 
 wa'n't no manner account, nuther. He had^ sense 
 enough, but he threw himself away with liquor. He 
 painted a picture of my youngest sister, and everybody 
 said that it favored her mightily, but John wa'n't no 
 manner account." 
 
 " Do you remember his wife ? " 
 
 " Not much. He married a young creature down the 
 river and broke her heart, folks said." 
 
 " Did you ever see her ? " 
 
 His voice had suddenly changed, and the old woman 
 looked sharply at him. 
 
 " Yes, several times. She was a tall, frail, black-eyed 
 creature, and she might have done well if she hadn't 
 ever met John DeGolyer. But won't you sit down ?" 
 
 "Xo, thank you, I'm going now. You are the 
 matron, I presume." 
 
 " Yes, sir have been now for I hardly know how 
 long." 
 
 " If I send some presents to the children will you see 
 that they are properly distributed? " 
 
 "Yes, but for goodness' sake don't send any drums 
 or horns." 
 
 " I won't. How many boys have you ? " 
 
 "Well, we've got a good many, I can tell yon. You 
 see, this isn't a regular foundlings' home. We take up
 
 222 TEE COLOSSUS. 
 
 poor children from most everywhere. We've got 
 ninety-three boys." 
 
 " And how many girls ? " 
 
 "We've got a good many of them, too, I can tell you. 
 Seventy-odd seventy-five, I think." 
 
 " All right. Xow don't forget your promise. Good 
 flay, madam." 
 
 He went to a large toy-shop and began to buy in a 
 way that appeared likely to exhaust the stock. 
 
 " Where do you live ? " asked the proprietor of the 
 shop. 
 
 "In Chicago." 
 
 " What, you ain't going to ship these toys there and 
 try to make anything on them, are you ? " 
 
 " Xo : I want them sent out to the Foundlings' 
 Home. What's your bill ? " 
 
 The man figured up four hundred and ten dollars. 
 "Come with me to the bank," said Henry. 
 
 "Nearly all you Chicago men are rich," remarked 
 the toy merchant as they walked along. " I've had a 
 notion to sell out and move there myself. Chicago's 
 reaching out after everything, and Xew Orleans is doing 
 more and more trading with her every year. I bought 
 a good many of these toys from a Chicago drummer. 
 He sells everything represents a concern called the 
 Colossus." 
 
 Henry settled for the toys, and then continued his 
 stroll about the city. A strange sadness depressed him. 
 The old woman's words k< and broke her heart, folks 
 said " rang in his ears. Had he been born as a mere 
 incident of nature, or was it intended that he should 
 achieve something ? Was he an accident or was he 
 designed ? When he thought of Ms mother, his heart
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 223 
 
 bled ; but to think of his father made it beat with 
 anger. When he became a member of the Witherspoon 
 family,, his conscience had constantly plied him with 
 questions until, worn with self -argument, he resolved 
 to accept a part of the advantages that were thrust 
 upon him. Why not all ? What sense had he shown 
 in his obstinacy ? What honor had he served ? Why 
 should he desire to reserve a part of a former self ? 
 Fortune had not favored his birth, bat accident had 
 thrown him in the way to be rich and therefore power- 
 ful. Accident ! What could be more of an accident 
 ihan life itself ? Then came the last sting. The 
 woman whom he loved, should she become his wife, 
 would never know her name; his children but how 
 vain and foolish was such a questioning. Was his name 
 worth preserving ? Should he not rejoice in the thought 
 that he had thrown it off ? He stopped on a corner and 
 stood in an old doorway, where he had blacked shoes. 
 "George Witherspoon is right, and I have been a fool," 
 he said. " Nature despises the weak. I will be rich 
 I am rich." 
 
 There was no half-heartednesa now. Hi? manner 
 changed ; there was arrogance in his step. Rich 
 powerful ! The world had been hi? ensmy and he had 
 blacked ifs shoes. Now it should be his servant, and 
 with a lordly contempt he would tip iJ. for its pervices. 
 
 He turned into a restaurant, and in * masterful and 
 overbearing way ordered his dinner. He looked at 
 a man and mused : " He puts on airs, the fool 1 I could 
 buy him." 
 
 Several men who had been sitting at a table got np to 
 go out. One of them pointed at a ragged fp*^ow who,
 
 224 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 some distance back, was down on his knees scrubbing 
 the floor. "Zeb, see that man ?" 
 
 "Whitman?" 
 
 " Tho one scrubbing the floor." 
 
 " That isn't a man it's a thing. What of it ? " 
 
 " Nothing, only he used to be one of the brightest 
 newspaper writers in this city." 
 
 Henry looked up. 
 
 "Yes used to write some great stuff, they say." 
 
 "What's his name?" 
 
 " Henry DeGplyer." 
 
 Henry sprang to his feet. He put out his hands, for 
 the room began to swim round. He looked toward the 
 door, but the men were gone. A waiter ran to him and 
 caught him by the arm. "Sit down here, sir." 
 
 "No; get away." 
 
 He steadied himself against the wall. The ragged 
 man looked up, moved his bucket of water, dipped his 
 mop- rag into it and went on with his work. Henry 
 took a step forward, and then felt for the wall again. 
 A death-like paleness had overspread his face, and he ap- 
 peared vainly to be trying to shut his staring and expres- 
 sionless eyes. The waiter took hold of his arm again. 
 
 "Never mind. I'm all right." 
 
 There were no customers in the room. The scrub-man 
 came nearer. Shudder after shudder, seeming to come 
 in waves, passed over Henry, but suddenly he became 
 calm, and slowly he walked toward the rear end of the 
 room. The scrub-man moved forward and was at 
 Henry's feet. He reached down and took hold of the 
 man's arm took the rag out of his hand. The man 
 looked up. There could be no mistake. He was Henry 
 Witherspoon.
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 225 
 
 "Don't yon know me ?" DeGolyer asked. 
 
 The man snatched the rag and began again to scrub 
 the floor. 
 
 DeGolyer took hold of his arm. "Get ap," he com- 
 manded, and the man obeyed as if frightened. 
 
 " Don't you know me ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Don't you remember Hank ? " 
 
 " I'm Hank," the man answered. 
 
 "No," said DeGolyer, with a sob, "you are Henry, 
 and I am Hank." 
 
 "No, Henry's dead I'm Hank." He dropped on 
 his knees again and began to scrub the floor. 
 
 Just then the proprietor came in. "What's the 
 trouble ? " he asked. " Why, mister, don't pay any 
 attention to that poor fellow. There's no harm in 
 him." 
 
 "No one knows that better than I," DeGolyer an- 
 swered. " How long has he been here where did he 
 come from ? " 
 
 " He came off a ship. The cap'n said that he couldn't 
 use him and asked me to take him. Been here about 
 five months, I think. They say he used to amount to 
 something, but he's gone up here," he added, tapping 
 his head. 
 
 "What's the captain's name where can I find 
 him ? " 
 
 " His ship's in now, I think. Go down to the levee 
 and ask for the cap'n of the Creole." 
 
 " I will, but first let me tell you that I have come for 
 this man. I know his father. I'll get back as soon as 
 I can." 
 
 "All right And if you can do anything for this 
 m
 
 228 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 poor fellow you are welcome to, for he's not much use 
 round here." 
 
 DeGolyer snatched his hat and rushed out into the 
 street. Not a hack was in sight ; he could not wait for 
 a car, and he hastened toward the river. He began 
 to run, and a boy cried: "Sick him, Tige." He 
 stopped suddenly and put his hand to his head. "Have 
 I lost my mind ? " he asked himself. 
 
 ""Well, here we are again," some one said. DeGolyer 
 looked round and recognized the railroad man who had 
 charge of the excursion. 
 
 "I'm glad I met you," DeGolyer replied. "It saves 
 hunting you up." 
 
 " Why, what's the matter ? Are you sick ? " 
 
 "No, I'm all right, but something has occurred that 
 compels me to return at once to Chicago." 
 
 "Nothing serious, I hope." 
 
 "No, but it demands my immediate return. I"m 
 sorry, but it can't be helped. Good-by." 
 
 Again he started toward the river. He *pset an old 
 woman's basket of fruit. She cried out 9*, him, and 
 he saw that she could scarcely totter after *he rolling 
 oranges. He halted and picked them up for her. She 
 mumbled something; she appeared to be r hundred 
 years old. As he was putting the fruit into the basket, 
 she struck a note in her mumbling that caused him to 
 look her full in the face. He dropped the oranges and 
 sprang back. She was the hag that had taken him 
 from the Foundlings' Home. He hurried onward. 
 " Great God ! " he inwardly cried, " I am covered with 
 the slime of the past." 
 
 Without difficulty he found the captain of the Creole. 
 "I don't know very much about the poor fellow," he
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 227 
 
 said. "I run across him nearly six months ago at a 
 little place called Dura, on the coast of Costa Rica. 
 He was working about a sort of hotel, scrubbing and 
 taking care of the horses ; and I guess I shouldn't have 
 paid any attention to him if I hadn't heard somebody 
 say that he was an American ; and it struck me as 
 rather out of place that an American should be scrub- 
 bing round for those fellows, and I began to inquire 
 about him. The landlord said that he was brought 
 there sick, a good while ago, and was left for dead, but 
 just as they were about to bury him he came to, and 
 got up again after a few weeks. A priest told rne 
 that his name was Henry DeGolyer, and I said that 
 it didn't make any difference what his name might 
 be, I was going to take him back to the United 
 States, so that if he had to clean out stables and scrub 
 he might do it for white folks at least ; for I am a 
 down-east Yankee, and I haven't any too much respect 
 for those fellows. Well, I brought him to New 
 Orleans. I couldn't do much for him, being a poor 
 man myself, but I got him a place in a restaurant, where 
 he could get enough to eat, anyhow. I've since heard 
 that he used to be a newspaper man, but this was dis- 
 puted. Some people said that the newspaper DeGolyer 
 was a black-haired fellow. But that didn't make any 
 difference I did the best I could." 
 
 "And yon shall be more than paid for your trouble," 
 said DeGolyer. 
 
 "Well, we won't argue about that. If you've got 
 any money to spare you'd better give it to him." 
 
 " What is your name ? " 
 
 "Atkins just Cap'n Atkins." 
 
 " Where do you get your mail ? "
 
 228 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 " Well, I don't get any to speak of. A letter sent in 
 care of the wharf master will reach me all right." 
 
 DeGolyer got into a hack and was rapidly driven to 
 the restaurant. Young Witherspoon had completed his 
 work and was in the kitchen, sitting on a box with a 
 dirty-looking bundle lying beside him. 
 
 "Come, Henry," DeGolyer said, taking his arm. 
 
 "No; not Henry Hank. Henry's dead." 
 
 "Come, my boy." 
 
 Witherspoon looked np, and closing his eyes, pressed 
 the tips of his fingers against them. 
 
 " My boy." 
 
 "He got up and turned to go with DeGolyer, who 
 held his arm, but perceiving that he had left bis 
 bundle, pulled back and made an effort to reach it. 
 
 "No, we don't want that," said DeGolyer. 
 
 "Yes, clothes." ' 
 
 "No, we'll get better clothes. Come on." 
 
 DeGolyer took him to a Turkish bath, to a barber- 
 shop, and then to a clothing store. It was now evening 
 and nearly time to take the train for Chicago. They 
 drove to the hotel and then to the railway station. 
 
 The homeward journey was begun, and the wheels 
 kept on repeating : " A father and a mother and a 
 sister, too." DeGolyer did not permit himself to 
 think. His mind had a thousand quickenings, but he 
 killed them. Young Witherspoon looked in awe at the 
 luxury of the sleeping-car ; he gazed at the floor as if 
 he wondered how it could be scrubbed. At first he 
 refused to sit on the showy plush, and even after 
 DeGolyer's soothing and affectionate words had relieved 
 his fear of giving offense, he jumped to his feet when 
 the porter came through the car, and in a trembling
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 229 
 
 fright begged his companion to protect him against 
 the anger of the head waiter. 
 
 " Sit down, my dear boy. He is not a head waiter 
 he is your servant." 
 
 "Is he?" 
 
 "Yes, and must wait on you." 
 
 At this he doubtfully shook his head, and he con- 
 tinued to watch the porter until assured that he was.not 
 offended, and then timidly offered to shake hands with 
 him. 
 
 When bed-time came young Witherspoon refused to 
 take off his clothes. He was afraid that some one 
 might steal them, and no argument served to reassure 
 him ; and even after he had lain down, with his clothes 
 on, he took off a red neck-tie which he had insisted 
 upon wearing, and for greater security put it into his 
 pocket. DeGolyer lay beside him, and for a time 
 Witherspoon was quiet, but suddenly he rose up and 
 began to mutter. 
 
 " What's the matter, Henry ? " 
 
 " "Not Henry Hank. Henry's dead. " 
 
 "Well, what's the matter, Hank ? " 
 
 "Want my hat." 
 
 "It's up there. We'll get it in the morning." 
 
 "Want it now." 
 
 DeGolyer got his hat for him, and he lay with it on 
 his breast. How dragging a night it was ! Would the 
 train never run from under the darkness out into the 
 light of day ? And sometimes, when the train stopped, 
 DeGolyer fancied that it had run ahead of night and 
 perversely was waiting for the darkness to catch up. 
 The end was coming, and what an end it might be ! 
 
 The day was dark and rainy ; the landscape was a flat
 
 230 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 dreariness. A buzzard flapped his heavy wings and flew 
 from a dead tree ; a yelping dog ran after the train ; a 
 horse, turned out to die, stumbled along a stumpy road. 
 
 It was evening when the train reached Chicago. 
 DeGolyer and young Witherspoon took a cab and were 
 driven to a hospital. The case was explained to the 
 physician in charge. He said that the mental trouble 
 might not be due to any permanent derangement of the 
 brain ; it was evident that he had not been treated 
 properly. The patient's nervous system was badly 
 shattered. The case was by no means hopeless. He 
 could not determine the length of time it might require 
 to restore him to physical health, which meant, he 
 thought, a mental cure as well. 
 
 " Three months ? " DeGolyer asked. 
 
 "That long, at least." 
 
 " I will leave him with you, and I urge you not to 
 stop short of the highest medical skill that can be pro- 
 cured in either this country or in Europe. As to who 
 this young man is or may turn out to be, that must be 
 kept as a secret. I will call every day. Henry " 
 
 "Hank." 
 
 "All right, Hank. Now, I'm going to leave you 
 here, but I'll be back soon." 
 
 " No ; they'll steal my clothes ! " he cried, in alarm. 
 
 " No, they won't ; they'll give you more clothes. 
 You stay here, and I will bring you something when I 
 come back." 
 
 DeGolyer went to a hotel.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 A MOST PECULIAR FELLOW. 
 
 T?ARLY the next morning George Witherspoon was 
 -l^ pacing the sidewalk in front of his house when 
 DeGolyer came up. The merchant was startled. 
 
 " Why, where did you come from ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 "I thought it best to get back as soon as possible," 
 DeGolyer answered, shaking hands with him. "The 
 truth is, I met a man who caused me to change my 
 plans. He wants to buy my paper, and so I came back 
 with him." 
 
 ''Good enough, my dear boy. We'll go down imme- 
 diately after breakfast and close with him one way or 
 another. I am delighted, I assure you. Why, I 
 missed you every minute of the time. See how I have 
 already begun to rely on you ? I haven't said a word 
 to your mother about that angel. Hah, you'd burn 
 down the Colossus, would you ? Why, bless my life, 
 you rascal." 
 
 " Who is that ? " Ellen cried as they entered the 
 hall ; and with an airy, early-morning grace she came 
 running down the stairway. "Oh, nobody can place 
 any confidence in what you say," she declared, kissing 
 him. " Goodness alive, man, you look as if you hadn't 
 slept a wink since you left home." Just then Mrs. 
 Witherspoon came out of the dining-room. "Mother,''' 
 Ellen called, " here's one of your mother's people, and 
 he's darker than ever."
 
 232 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 Mrs. Witherspoon fondly kissed him before she gave 
 Ellen the usual look of gentle reproach. " Yon must 
 have known how much we missed you, my son, and that 
 is the reason you came home. And you're just in time 
 for breakfast. Ellen, will you please get out of the 
 wsy ? And what do you mean by saying that he's darker 
 than ever ?" Here she gave DeGolyer an anxious look. 
 a But you are not ill, are you, my son ? " 
 
 " 111 ! " Witherspoon repeated, with resentment. " Of 
 course he's not ill. What do you mean by ill ? Do you 
 expect a man to travel a thousand miles and then look 
 like a rose ? Is breakfast ready ? Well, come then. 
 We've got business to attend to. w 
 
 " Now, as to this man who wants to buy my paper," said 
 DeGolyer, when they were seated at the table, " let me 
 tell you that he is a most peculiar fellow, and if he finds 
 that I am anxious to sell, he'll back out. Therefore I 
 don't think you'd better see him, father." 
 
 " Nonsense, my dear boy ; I can make him buy in 
 three minutes." 
 
 " That may be, but you might scare him off in one 
 minute. He's an old-maidish sort of fellow, and is 
 easily frightened. You'd better let me work him." 
 
 " All right, but don't haggle. There are transactions 
 in which men are bettered by being beaten, and this is 
 one of them." 
 
 " Yes, but it isn't well to let eagerness rush you into 
 a folly." 
 
 " Ah, but in this affair folly was at the other end 
 at the buying." 
 
 "Then, with a wise sale, let us correct that folly." 
 
 " All right, but without haggling. When are you to 
 meet this man again ?"
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 233 
 
 "At noon." 
 
 " And when shall I see yon ? " 
 
 "Immediately after the deal is clossd." 
 
 On DeGolyer's part the day was spent in the spin- 
 ning of the threads of excuses. He might explain a 
 week's delay, but how was he to account for a three 
 months' put-off ? And if at the end of that time young 
 Witherspoon's case should be pronounced hopeless what 
 course was then to be taken ? 
 
 He did not see George Witherspoon again until din- 
 ner-time. The merchant met him with a quick inquiry. 
 "We will discuss it in the library, father," DeGolyer 
 answered. 
 
 " But can't you tell me now whether or not it ts come 
 out all right?" 
 
 " I think it's all right, but you may not. But let us 
 wait until after dinner." 
 
 When they went into the library Witherspoon hastily 
 lighted his cigar, and sat down in his leather-covered 
 chair. " Well, how did it come out ? " he asked. 
 
 DeGolyer did not sit down. Evidently he expected 
 to remain in the room but a short time. 
 
 "I told you that he was a very peculiar fellow." 
 
 " Yes, I know that. What did you do with him ? " 
 
 " We'll, the deal isn't closed yet. He wants to go into 
 the office and work three months before he decides." 
 
 " Tell him to go to the devil ! " Witherspoon ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 "No, I can't do that." 
 
 " Why can't you ? Do you belong to him ? Have 
 you a consideration for everybody but me ? " 
 
 "I very nearly belong to him." 
 
 " You very nearly belong to him ! " Witherspoon cried.
 
 234 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 " What in the name of God do yon mean ? Have you 
 lost your senses ? " 
 
 " My senses are all right, but my situation is peculiar." 
 
 " I should think so. Henry, I don't want to fly all to 
 
 pieces. Lately, and with your help, I have pulled 
 
 myself strongly together, and now I beg of you not to 
 
 pull me apart." 
 
 " Father, some time ago you said that we have more 
 control over ourselves than we exercise ; and now I ask 
 you to exert a little of that control. The sense of obli- 
 gation has always been strong in me, and I feel that it 
 is largely developed in you. I said that I very nearly 
 belonged to this man, and I will tell you why ; and 
 don't be impatient, but listen to me for a few min- 
 utes. A number of years ago uncle left me in New 
 Orleans and went on one of his trips to South America. 
 He had not been gone long when yellow fever broke 
 out. It was unusually fatal, and the city, though 
 long accustomed to the disease,, was panic-stricken. I 
 was one of the early victims. Every member of the 
 family I boarded with died within a week, and I was 
 left in the house alone. This man, this peculiar fellow, 
 Nat Parker, found me, took charge of me and did not 
 leave me until I was out of danger. Of course, there 
 was no way to reward him you can merely stammer 
 your gratitude to the man who has saved your life. He 
 told me that the time might come when I could do him 
 a good turn. Well, I met him the other day in New 
 Orleans, and I incidentally spoke of my intention to 
 sell my paper. He said that he would buy it. I told 
 him that I would make him a present of it, but he 
 resentfully replied that he was not a beggar. I came 
 back with him to Chicago, and afraid that any inter-
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 235 
 
 ference might offend him, I told yon that yon shonld 
 hare nothing to do with the transaction. He has an 
 ambition to become known as a newspaper man, and 
 he foolishly believes that I am a great journalist. So 
 he declares that for three months he must serve under 
 me. What could I say ? Could I tell him that I would 
 dispose of the paper to some one else ? I was compelled 
 to accept his terms. I insisted that he should live with 
 us during the time, but he objected. He swore that 
 he must not be introduced to any of my people to be 
 petted like a dog that has saved a child's life. And 
 there's the situation." 
 
 Witherspoon's cigar had fallen to the floor. Some 
 time elapsed before he spoke, and when he did speak 
 there was an unnatural softness in his voice. " Strange 
 story," he said. "No wonder you are peculiar when 
 you have been thrown among such peculiar people. If 
 your friend were a sane man, we could deal with him in 
 a sensible manner, but as he is not we must let him 
 have his way. But suppose that at the end of three 
 months he is tired of the paper ? " 
 
 " I will sell it or give it away. But there'll be no 
 trouble about that. It's a valuable piece of property, 
 and I will swear to you that if at the end of that time 
 Henry Witherspoon does not go into the Colossus with 
 his father, it will be the father who keeps him out. 
 Now promise me that you won't worry." 
 
 Witherspoon got up and took Henry's hand. "You 
 have done the best you could, my son. It is peculiar 
 and unbusinesslike, but we can't help that." 
 
 "Will you explain to mother ?" 
 
 "Yes, but the more I look at it the stranger it 
 seems. I don't know, however, that it is so strange
 
 236 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 *- 
 
 after all. He is simply a chivalrous crank of the South, 
 and we must humor him. But I'll be glad when all 
 this nonsense is over." 
 
 DeGolyer sat in his room, smoking his pipe. He 
 looked at his reflection in the mirror, and said : 
 " Oh, what a liar you are ! But your day for truth is 
 coming."
 
 CHAPTER XXXIIL 
 
 THE TIME WAS DRAWING NEAR. 
 
 ONE morning, when DeGolyer called at the hospital, 
 young Witherspoon said to him : " You are Hank, 
 and I'm Henry." And this was the first indication that 
 his mind was regaining its health. 
 
 Every day George Witherspoon would ask : " Well, 
 how's your peculiar friend getting along ? " And one 
 evening, when he made this inquiry, DeGolyer answered : 
 "He is so much pleased that he doesn't think it will 
 take him quite three months to decide." 
 
 " Good enough, but why doesn't he decide now ? " 
 
 "Because it would hardly be in keeping with his 
 peculiar methods. I haven't questioned him, but 
 occasionally he drops a hint that leads me to believe 
 that he's satisfied." 
 
 DeGolyer was once tempted to tell Richmond and 
 McGlenn that he was feeling his way through a part that 
 had been put upon him, but with this impulse came a 
 restraining thought the play was not yet done. They 
 were at luncheon, and McGlenn had declared that 
 DeGolyer was sometimes strangely inconsistent. 
 
 " I admit that I am, John, and with an explanation I 
 could make you stare at me." 
 
 " Then let us have the explanation. Man was made 
 to stare as well as to mourn." 
 
 " No, not now ; but it will come one of these days, 
 though perhaps not directly from me."
 
 238 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 "Ah, yon have killed a mysterious lion and 
 made a riddle ; but where is the honey you found in the 
 carcass ? Give us the explanation." 
 
 " Not now. But one of these bleak Chicago days yon 
 and Richmond will sit in the club, watch the whirling 
 snow and discuss me, and you both will say that you 
 always thought there was something strange about me." 
 
 "And we do," McGlenn replied. "Here's a million- 
 aire's son, and he has chosen toil instead of ease. Isn't 
 that an anomaly, and isn't such an anomaly a strange 
 thing? But will the outcome of that vague something 
 cause us to hold you at a cooler length from us will 
 that ' I told you so ' result in your banishment ? Shall 
 we send a Roger Williams over the hills ? " 
 
 " John, what are you trying to get at ? " Richmond 
 asked. 
 
 McGlenn looked serenely at him. "Have you 
 devoured your usual quota of pickles ? If so, writhe in 
 your misery until I have dined." 
 
 " I writhe, not with what I have eaten, but at what I 
 see. Is there a more distressing sight than an epicure 
 or a gourmand, rather with a ragged purse ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes ; a stuffer, a glutton without a purse." 
 
 Richmond laughed. " Hunger may force a man to 
 apparent gluttony," he said, "and a sandbagger may 
 have taken his purse ; and all on his part is honesty. 
 But there is pretense which I hold is not honest 
 in an effort to be an epicure." 
 
 "Ah, which you hold is not honest. A most rare 
 but truthful avowal, since nothing you hold is honest." 
 
 "In my willingness to help the weak," Richmond 
 replied, " I have held your overcoat while you put it
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 239 
 
 "And it was not an honest covering until yon took 
 yonr hands off." 
 
 "Neither did it cover honesty until some other man 
 put it on by mistake/' Richmond rejoined. 
 
 DeGolyer went to his office, and Richmond and 
 McGlenn, wrangling as they walked along, betook 
 themselves to the Press Club. "I tell you," said 
 McGlenn, as they were going up the stairs, "that he 
 needs our sympathy. He has suffered, but having 
 suffered, he is great." 
 
 Thus the weeks were sprinkled with light incidents, 
 and thus the days dripped into the past and a desig- 
 nated future was drawing near. 
 
 " Well," Witherspoon remarked one Sunday morning, 
 ''the time set by your insane friend will soon be up." 
 
 "Yes, within a week," DeGolyer replied. 
 
 "I should think that he is more in need of apart- 
 ments in an asylum than of a newspaper ; but if he 
 thinks he knows his business, all right; we have 
 nothing to say. What has he agreed to give for the 
 paper ? " 
 
 " Xo price has been fixed, but there'll be no trouble 
 about that." 
 
 "I hope not." 
 
 "Did you understand mother and Ellen to say 
 they were going out shopping to-morrow afternoon ? " 
 DeGolyer asked. 
 
 "Yes, but what of it?" 
 
 " There's this of it : If they decide to go, I want you 
 to meet me here at three o'clock." 
 
 " Why can't you meet me at the store ? " 
 
 " Don't I tell you that my friend is peculiar ? " 
 
 0h, it's to meet him, eh ? All right, I'll be here."
 
 240 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 His play was nearing the end. To-morrow he must 
 snatch " the make-up " off his face. He felt a sadness 
 that was more than half a joy. He should be free ; he 
 should be honest, and being honest, he could summon 
 that most sterling of all strength, a manly self-respect. 
 He had thought himself strong, but had found himself 
 weak. Tne love of money, which at first had seemed 
 so gross, at last had conquered him. This thought did 
 not sting him now; it softened him, made him look 
 with a more forgiving eye upon tempted human nature. 
 But was it money that had tempted him to turn from a 
 purpose so resolutely formed ? Had not Witherspoon's 
 argument and Ellen's persuasion left him determined to 
 reserve one refuge for his mind one closet wherein he 
 could hang the cast-off garment of real self ? Then it 
 was the appeal of that gentle woman whom he called 
 mother ; it was not money. But after yielding to the 
 mother he had found himself without a prop, and at 
 last he had felt a contempt for a moderate income and 
 had boasted to himself that he could buy a man. And 
 for this he reproached himself. How grim was that 
 something known as fate, how mockingly did it play 
 with the children of men, and in that mockery how 
 cold a justice ! But he should be free, and that thought 
 thrilled him. 
 
 In the afternoon he went over to the North Side, 
 and along a modest street he walked, looking at the 
 houses as if hunting for a number. He went up a short 
 flight of wooden steps and rang the bell of the second 
 flat. The hall door was open, and a moment later he 
 saw Miss Drury at the head of the stairs. 
 
 " Why, is that you, Mr. Witherspoon ? " 
 
 " Yes ; may I come up ? "
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 241 
 
 " What a question ! Of course you may, especially 
 as I am as lonesome as I can be." 
 
 He was shown into a neat sitting-room, where a 
 canary bird " fluttered " his hanging cage up and down. 
 A rose was pinned on one of the' white curtains. The 
 room was warmed by a stove, and through the isinglass 
 the playful flame could be seen. She brought a 
 "tidied" rocking-chair, and smiling in her welcome, 
 said that as this was his first visit, she must make 
 him comfortable. "Don't you see," she added, "that 
 you constantly make me forget that I am working for 
 you ? " 
 
 "And don't you know," he answered, "that you are 
 most pleasing when you do forget it ? But I am to 
 infer that you wouldn't give me the rocking-chair if yon 
 didn't forget that you were working for me ? " 
 
 " You must infer nothing," she said. " But am I 
 most pleasing when I forget ? Then I will not remem- 
 ber again. It is a woman's duty to ft > pleasing ; and 
 her advantage, too, for when she ceases to please she 
 loses many of her privileges." 
 
 DeGolyer went to the window, t ok the rose, brought 
 it to her and said : "Put this in your hair." 
 
 She looked up as she took the rose ; their eyes met 
 and for a moment they lived in the promise of a 
 delirious bliss. She looked down as she was putting 
 the flower in her hair. He spoke an idle word that 
 meant more than old Wisdom's speech, and she answered 
 with a laugh that was nearly a sob. He thirsted to take 
 her in his arms, to tell her of his love, but his time was 
 not yet come he was still Henry Witherspoon. 
 
 " How have you spent the day ? " she asked. 
 
 "Fin thinking of to-morrow."
 
 242 THE COLOSSUS 
 
 "And will to-morrow be so important ?" 
 
 "Yes, the most important day of my life." 
 
 "Oh, tellmeabontit." 
 
 "I will to-morrow." 
 
 " Well, I suppose I shall have to wait, but I wish you 
 would tell me just a little bit of it." 
 
 " To tell a little would be to tell all. The story is 
 not yet complete." 
 
 " Oh, is it a story ? And is it one that you are 
 writing ? " 
 
 "No, one that I am living. It is a strange tale." 
 
 "I know it must be interesting, but what has to- 
 morrow to do with it ? " 
 
 "It will be completed then." 
 
 " I don't understand you ; I never did. I've often 
 thought you the saddest man I have ever seen, and I've 
 wondered why. You ought not to be sad fortune is 
 surely a friend of yours. You live in a grand house, 
 and your father is a power in this great community. 
 All the advantages of this life are within your reach ; 
 and if you can find cause to be sad, what must be the 
 condition of people who have to struggle in order to 
 live!" 
 
 " The summing-up of what you say means that I ought 
 to be thankful." 
 
 "Yes, you were stolen, it is true, but you were re- 
 stored, and therefore, by contrast and out of gratitude, 
 you should be happier than if you had never been taken 
 away. " 
 
 "All that is true so far as it is true," he replied. 
 " And let me say that I'm not so sad as you suppose. 
 Do yon care if I smoke here ? " 
 
 "Notatall."
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 243 
 
 He lighted a cigar and sat smoking in silence. A boy 
 shouted in the hall, a dog barked, and a cat sprang up 
 from a doze under a table, looked toward the door, gave 
 himself a humping stretch, and then lay down again. 
 
 Whenever DeGolyer looked at the girl," a new expres- 
 sion, the rosy tinge of a strange confusion, flew to her 
 tountenauce. His talk evoked a self-possessed reply, 
 but over his silence an embarrassment was brooding. 
 She seemed to be in fear of something that sweetly 
 she expected. 
 
 "I may not be at the office to-morrow until evening, 
 but will you wait for me ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And when I come, I'll be myself." 
 
 " Be yourself ? Who are you now ? " 
 
 "Another man." 
 
 "Oh, then I shall be glad to see you." 
 
 "I don't know as to that. You may have strong 
 objections to my real self." 
 
 "You are so mysterious." 
 
 "To-day, yes; to-morrow, no." 
 
 He was leaning back, blowing rings of smoke, and 
 was looking up at them. 
 
 "Perhaps I shouldn't say it," she said, "but during 
 the last three months you have appeared stranger than 
 ever." 
 
 "Yes," he drawlingly replied, "for during the last 
 three months it was natural that I should be stranger 
 than ever." 
 
 "I do wish I knew what you mean." 
 
 " And when you have been told you may wish you 
 had never known." 
 
 *Js it so bad as that?"
 
 244 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 "Worse." 
 
 "Worse than what ?" 
 
 "Than anything yon imagine." 
 
 " Oh, yon are simply trying to tease me, Mr. Wither- 
 spoon." 
 
 " Do yon think so ? Then we'll say no more about 
 it." 
 
 " Oh, bnt that's worse than ever. Well, I don't care ; 
 I can wait." 
 
 They talked on subjects in which neither of them 
 was interested, but sympathy was in their voices. Grad- 
 ually yes, now it seemed for months they had been 
 floating toward that fern-covered island in the river of 
 life where a thoughtless word comes back with an echo 
 of love ; where the tongue may be silly, but where the 
 eye holds a redeemed soul, returned from God to 
 gaze upon the only remembered rapture of this earth. 
 
 She went with him to the head of the stairway. 
 "Don't leave the office before I come," he called, look- 
 ing back at her. 
 
 "You know I' won't," she answered.
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIV. 
 
 TOLD HIM A STORY. 
 
 AT the appointed time, the next day, George Wither- 
 spoon was waiting in his library. DeGolyer came 
 in a cab, and when he got out, he told the driver to 
 wait. 
 
 "Where is your friend ?" Witherspoon asked ae 
 DeGolyer entered the room. 
 
 "He'll be here within a few minutes." 
 
 "Confound him, I'm getting sick of his peculiar- 
 ities." 
 
 The merchant sat down ; DeGolyer stood on the 
 hearth-rug. The time was come, and he had been 
 strong, but now a shiver crept over him. 
 
 "My friend told me a singular story to-day." 
 
 "I don't doubt it ; and if his stories are as singular 
 as he is, they must be marvelous." 
 
 "This story is marvelous, and I think it would 
 interest you. I will give it to you briefly. There were 
 two young men in a foreign country" 
 
 " I wish he was in a foreign country. I can't wait 
 here all day." 
 
 " He'll be here soon. These two friends were on their 
 way to the sea coast, and here's where it will strike you. 
 One of them had been stolen when he was a child, and 
 was now going back to his parents. But before they 
 reached the coast, the rich man's son as we'll call the
 
 246 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 one who had been stolen was stricken with a fever. 
 No ship was in port, and his friend took him to a hotel 
 and got a doctor for him." 
 
 "Wish you'd hand me a match/' said Witherspoon. 
 "My cigar's out. Thank you." 
 
 " Got a doctor for him, but he grew worse. Some- 
 times he was delirious, but at times his mind was 
 strangely clear; and once, when he was rational, he 
 told his friend that he was going to die. He didn't 
 appear to care very much so far as it concerned himself, 
 but the thought of the grief that his death would cause 
 his parents seemed to lie as a cold weight upon his 
 mind. And it was then that he made a most peculiar 
 request. He compelled his friend to promise to take 
 his name ; to go to his home ; to be a son to his father 
 and mother. His friend begged, but had to yield. 
 Well, the rich man's son died, we'll suppose, and the 
 poor fellow took his name on the spot. He had to leave 
 hurriedly, for a father and a mother and a sister were 
 waiting in a distant home. A ship that had just come 
 was ready to sail, and a month might pass before the 
 landing of another vessel. He went to these people as 
 their son " 
 
 "Oh, yes," said Witherspoon, "and fell in love with 
 the sister, and then had to tell his story." 
 
 "No, he didn't. He loved the girl, but only as a 
 brother should. He was not wholly acceptable to his 
 father, but" 
 
 "Ah, that's all very well," said Witherspoon, "but 
 what proof had he ? " 
 
 DeGolyer met Witherspoon'e careless look and held it 
 with a firm gaze. And slowly raising his hand, 
 * Ht held up a gold chain.''
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 247 
 
 Witherspoon sprang to his feet and exclaimed : " My 
 Sod, he's crazy ! " 
 
 "Wait!" 
 
 The merchant had turned toward the door. He halted 
 and looked back. 
 
 " George Witherspoon " 
 
 " I thought so crazy. Merciful God, he's mad ! " 
 
 " Will you listen to me for a moment just a moment 
 and I will prove to you that I'm not crazy. I am not 
 your son my name is Henry DeGolyer. Wait, I tell 
 you ! " Witherspoon had staggered against the door- 
 case. " I am not your son, but your son is not dead. 
 I took his place ; I thought it a promise made to a dying 
 man." 
 
 "What!" he whispered. His voice was gone. 
 "You you" 
 
 DeGolyer ran to him and eased him into his chair. 
 "Your son is here, and the man who has brought 
 nothing but ill luck will leave you. I tried to soften 
 this, bt couldn't." Witherspoon's head shook as he 
 looked up at him. "Wait a moment, and I will call 
 him. No, don't get up." 
 
 DeGolyer hastened to the front door, and standing 
 on the steps, he called : "Henry ! oh, Henry !" 
 
 "All right, Hank." 
 
 Young Witherspoon got out of the cab and came up 
 the steps. 
 
 "He is waiting for you, Henry." And speaking to 
 the footman, DeGolyer added: "There's nothing the 
 matter. Send those girls about their business." 
 
 Young Witherspoon followed DeGolyer into the 
 library. The merchant was standing with his shaky
 
 248 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 hands on the back of a chair. He stepped forvard and 
 tried to speak, but failed. 
 
 ' I'm yonr son. Hank did as I told him. It's all 
 right. Fve had a fever he's going to fall, Hank ! " 
 
 They eased him down into his leather-covered chair. 
 
 "I see it now," the old man muttered. "Yes, I can 
 see it. Come here." 
 
 The young man leaned over and put his arms about 
 his father's neck. "I will go into the stoie with yon 
 when I get just a little stronger I will do anything 
 you want me to. I've had an awful time awful 
 but it's all right now. Hank found me in New Orleans, 
 scrubbing a floor; but it's all right now." 
 
 " I'll get him some brandy," said DeGolyer. 
 
 "No," Witherspoon objected, "I'll be myself in a 
 minute. Never was so shocked in my life. Who ever 
 heard of such a thing ? Of course you couldn't soften 
 it. Let me look at you, my son. How do I know what 
 to believe ? No, there's no mistake now." 
 
 He got up, and holding the young man's hands 
 stood looking at him. " Who's that ? " he asked. 
 
 They heard voices. Mrs. Witherspoon and Ellen 
 were coming down the hall. DeGolyer stepped hastily 
 to the door. 
 
 "Oh, what are you doing here?" Ellen cried. "I 
 saw somebody Miss Miller. She didn't say so, but I 
 know that she wants me to kiss you for her, and I 
 will." 
 
 " Ellen ! " Witherspoon exclaimed, and just then she 
 saw that a stranger was present. 
 
 "Excuse me," she said. 
 
 DeGolyer took her by the hand, and as Mrs. Wither- 
 spoon came up he held out his other hand to her. He
 
 THE CCLOSSUS. 249 
 
 Jed them both to the threshold of the library, gently 
 drew them into the room, and quickly stepping out, 
 closed the door and hastened upstairs. 
 
 As he entered his room he thought that he heard a 
 cry, and he listened, but naught save a throbbing 
 silence came from below. He sat down, put his arms on 
 the table, and his head lay an aching weight upon his 
 arms. After a time he got up, and taking his travel- 
 ing-bag from a closet, began to pack it. There was his 
 old pipe, still with a ribbon tied about the stem. He 
 waited a long time and then went down-stairs. The 
 library door was closed, and gently he rapped upon it. 
 Witherspoon's voice bade him enter. 
 
 Mrs. "Witherspoon was sitting on a sofa; young 
 Henry was on his knees, and his head was in her lap. 
 Witherspoon and Ellen were standing near. 
 
 "He is like my father's people," the mother said, 
 fondly stroking his hair. "All the Springers were 
 light." She looked at DeGolyer, and her eyes were 
 soft, but for him they no longer held the glow of a 
 mother's love. DeGolyer put down his bag near the 
 door. 
 
 "Mr. Witherspoon, I hardly know what to say. I 
 came to this house as a lie, but I shall leave it as a 
 truth. I" - 
 
 "Hank !" young Henry cried, getting up, "you ain't 
 going away. You are going to stay here." 
 
 He ran to DeGolyer, seized his hand, and leading 
 him to Ellen, said: "I have caught you a prince. 
 Take him." And DeGolyer, smiling sadly, replied, "I 
 love her as a brother." She held out her hands to him. 
 "I could never think of you as anything else," she said.
 
 250 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 "But you must not leave us," Mrs. Witherspoon 
 declared, coming forward. 
 
 "Yes, my mission here is ended." 
 
 "You shan't go, Hank," young Witherspoon cried. 
 
 "Henry," said DeGolyer, "I did as you requested. 
 Now it is your time to obey. Keep quiet ! " He stood 
 erect ; he had the bearing of a master. He turned to 
 Witherspoon. "Here is a check for the amount of 
 money you advanced me, Avith interest added. " 
 
 Witherspoon stepped back. "I refuse to take it," 
 he said. 
 
 " But you shall take it. I have sold the paper at-a 
 profit, and it has made money almost from the first. Do 
 as I tell you. Take this check." 
 
 The merchant took the check, and it shook in his 
 hand. DeGolyer now addressed Mrs. Witherspoon. 
 " You have indeed been a mother to me. No gentler 
 being ever lived, and till the day of my death I shall 
 remember you with affection." 
 
 "Oh, this is all so strange !" she cried, weeping. 
 
 " Yes, but everything is strange, when we come to 
 think of it. God bless you. Sister," Ellen gave him 
 her hands, "good-by." 
 
 He kissed the girl, and then kissed Mrs. Witherspoon. 
 Henry came toward him, but DeGolyer stopped him 
 with a wave of his hand. " My dear boy, I'm not going 
 out of the world. No, you mustn't grab hold of me. 
 Stand where you are. You shall hear from me. Mr. 
 Witherspoon, this time you must get up a statement 
 without my help I mean for the newspapers. I know 
 that I have caused you a great deal of worry, but it is a 
 pretty hard matter to live a lie even when it is imposed 
 as a duty. By the way, a poor sea captain, Atkins is
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 251 
 
 his name, brought Henry from Dura. I wish you would 
 send him a check, care Wharf master, New Orleans." 
 
 "I will." 
 
 "Good- by, Mr. Witherspoon." 
 
 "Henry DeGolyer," said Witherspoon, grasping his 
 hand, "you are the most honorable man I ever met." 
 
 " There, now ! " DeGolyer cried, holding up his hand 
 they all were coming toward him "do as I tell you 
 and remain where you arc." 
 
 He caught up his bag and hastened out. "To the 
 Star office," he said to the cabman.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 " T'D begnn to think that you'd forgotten to come," 
 
 A said Miss Drury, as DeGolyer entered the room. 
 She was sitting at her desk, and bits of torn paper were 
 scattered about her. 
 
 "I'm sorry that I kept yon waiting so long," he 
 replied. He did not sit down, but stood near her. 
 
 "Oh, it hasn't been so very long," she rejoined. 
 "Why, how yon have changed since yesterday," she 
 added, looking at him. 
 
 " For the worse ? " he asked. 
 
 " For the better ; you look more like the heir to a 
 great fortune." 
 
 He smiled. " I am an heir to freedom, and that is 
 the greatest of fortune." 
 
 " Oh, now you are trying to mystify me again ; and 
 you said that to-day you would make everything clear. " 
 
 "And I shall. Laura" she looked up quickly 
 "Laura," he repeated, "this is my last day in this 
 office. I have sold the paper, and the new owner will 
 take charge to-morrow." 
 
 " I'm sorry," she said, and then added : " But on 
 my part that is selfishness. Of course you know what 
 is best for yourself." 
 
 " I told you yesterday that my story would be com- 
 pleted to-day. It is, and I will tell it." 
 
 The latest edition had left the press, and there was 
 scarcely a sound in the building. The sharp cry of the 
 newsboy came from the street.
 
 THE COLOSSUS. 253 
 
 In telling her his story he did not begin with his 
 early life, but with the time when first he met young 
 Witherspoon. It was a swift recital; and he sought 
 not to surprise her ; he strove to tone down her amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 " And to-day I took his son to him. I saw the quick 
 transfer of a mother's love and of a father's interest 
 I saw a girl half -frightened at the thought that upon a 
 stranger she had bestowed the intimacies of a sister's 
 affection. I had made so strong an effort to be hon- 
 orable with myself, at least ; to persuade myself that 
 I was fulfilling an honest mission, but had failed, for at 
 last I had fallen to the level of an ordinary hypocrite ; 
 I had found myself to be a purse-proud fool. When I 
 went into that restaurant my sympathies were dead, 
 and when that man pointed at the poor menial and said 
 that his name was Henry DeGolyer " 
 
 "No, no," she said, hiding her face, "your sympa- 
 thies were not dead. You you were a hero." 
 
 "I was simply a frozen-blooded fool," he replied. 
 " And now I must tell you something, but I know that 
 it will make you despise me. My father was a beast 
 he broke my mother's heart. The first thing I remem- 
 ber, her dead arms were about me and a chill was upon 
 me I knew not the meaning of death, but I was ter- 
 rorized by its cold mystery. I cried out, but no one 
 came, and there in the dark, with that icy problem, I 
 remained alone " 
 
 " Oh, don't," she cried, and her hands seemed to flut- 
 ter in her lap. She got up, and putting her arms on 
 the top of the desk, leaned her head upon them. 
 
 " How could I despise you for that ? " she sobbed. 
 
 "Not for that," he bitterly answered, "but for this:
 
 254 THE COLOSSUS. 
 
 I was taken to the Foundlings' Home was taken from 
 that place to become the disgraceful property of an 
 Italian hag. She taught me, compelled me to be a 
 thief. Once she and some ruffians robbed a store and 
 forced me to help them. I ought to have died before 
 that. She demanded, that I should steal something 
 every day, and if I didn't she beat me. I got up early 
 one morning and robbed her. I took a handful of 
 money out of her drawer and ran away. But in the 
 street a horror seized me, and I threw the money in the 
 gutter and fled from it. Don't you see that I was born 
 a thief ? But I have striven so hard since then to be 
 an honorable man. But don't try not to pity, to despise 
 me. You can't help it. But, my God, I do love you ! " 
 
 She turned toward him with a glory in her eyes, and 
 he caught her in his arms. 
 
 The old building was silent, and the shout of the 
 newsboy was far away. 
 
 "Angel of sweet mercy," he said, still holding her 
 in his arms, "let us leave this struggling place. I 
 know of an old house in Virginia it is near the sea, 
 and rest lies in the woods about it. Let us live there, 
 not to dream idly, but to work, to be a devoted man 
 and his happy wife. Come." 
 
 He took her hand, and they went out into the hall. 
 The place was deserted, tho elevator was not running, 
 and down the dark stairway he led her out into the 
 light of the street. 
 
 THE ENB.
 
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 Lucky Numbers. Brilliant explanations of all possible dreams. 
 Cloth, unique cover, extra half-tone, .... 75c 
 
 TWENTIETH CENTURY FORTUNE TELLER 
 
 By MADAME CARLOTTA DE BARST. Strange revelations 
 through the Magic Circle. Every possible event foretold. 
 Cloth, extra half-tone, unique cover, .... 75c 
 
 THE SPIRIT WORLD UNMASKED 
 
 By H. R. EVANS. Tricks and frauds of clairvoyants, mind 
 readers, slate writers, etc., fearlessly exposed. Life and 
 work of Madame Blavatsky. Illustrated. 
 12mo, extra cloth, burnished top, 75c 
 
 For sale everywhere, or sent postpaid on receipt of price, by 
 
 LAIRD LEE, **"*'.. CHICAGO, U.S.A.
 
 GOOD READING 
 
 BOOKS IN THE FAMOUS "PASTIME" SERIES 
 
 Illustrated paper covers, 25C each 
 
 Opie Read's Works 
 
 The Harkriders. 
 
 The Starbucks. r; 
 
 The Carpetbagger. 
 
 Old Ebenezer. 
 
 My Young Master. 
 
 The Jucklins. 
 
 On the Suwanee River 3- 
 
 The Colossus. 
 
 A Tennessee Judge. 
 
 Emmett Bonlore. o 
 
 A Kentucky Colonel. 
 
 Len Gansett. [Stories. jj 
 
 The Tear in the Cup and Other 
 
 The Wives of the Prophet. 
 
 Wm. H. Themes' Tales o? 
 Adventures 
 
 Daring Deeds. r 1 
 
 The Ocean Rovers. g: 
 
 The Bushrangers. 
 
 Lewey and I. 
 
 On Land and Sea. M 
 
 Running the Blockade. 3- 
 
 The Belle of Australia. 
 
 A Goldhunter's Adventures. 
 
 A Manila Romance. O 
 
 A Slaver's Adventures. 
 
 A Whaleman's Adventures. 5 
 
 The Goldhunters in Europe. f 
 
 Lawrence L. Lynch's 
 
 HIGH CLASS DETECTIVE STORIES 
 
 The Danger Line. 
 
 The Woman Who Dared. i- 
 
 Hiph Stakes. 
 
 The Unseen Hand. g" 
 
 The Last Stroke. <= 
 
 The Lost Witness. 
 
 Shadowed by Three ^ 
 
 A Slender Clue. 
 
 Dangerous Ground. 
 
 Madeline Payne. J 
 
 A Mountain Mystery. 
 
 The Diamond Coterie. 
 
 Romance of a Bomb Thrower. 
 
 Out of a Labyrinth. 
 
 M?x Nordau's Best Books 
 
 Paris Sketches. Paradoxes- 
 
 Coiivoniional Lies of Our Civilization- 
 
 Dr. N. T. Oliver's Novels 
 
 An Unconscious Crime. 
 The Fateful Hand. 
 A Woman of Nerve. 
 A DesperateJDeed. 
 
 Lithographed 
 Covers. 
 
 Miscellaneous 
 
 Practical Hypnotism St. Germaim 
 
 Black Rock Ralph Connor 
 
 Fogg's Ferry C. E. Callahan 
 
 Michael Carmichael Miles Sandys 
 
 Elizabeth and Her German Garden. 
 Wed by Mighty Waves, Sue Greenleaf 
 Samantha at Saratoga. Illustrated by 
 
 F. Opper Josiah Allen's Wife \ '. 
 
 Tabernacle Talks Geo. F. Hall / i 
 
 The Great Dream Book with Lucky 
 
 Numbers. 
 20th Century Fortune-Teller. Illust'd. 
 
 Madame Bovary Flaubert 
 
 A. D. 2000 A. M. Fuller 
 
 Camille Dumas; 
 
 The Lady with the Pearl Necklace, " ' 
 Rescued from Fiery Death Iroquois The- 
 ater Romance Wesley A. Stanger 
 
 Cousin Betty Balzac 
 
 Crime and Punishment Dostoieffsky 
 
 Herrmann the Great. The Famous Magi- 
 cian's Tricks. Illustrated. . . Burlingame 
 
 Her Sister's Rival Albert Delpit 
 
 A Man of Honor Feuillet 
 
 The Story of Three Girls Fawcett 
 
 Sappho Daudet 
 
 The Woman of Fire Adolphe Belot 
 
 Sell Not Thyself Winnif n d Kent 
 
 Hulda; A Romance of the West, Miv. Shuey 
 
 The American Monte Cristo F. C. Long 
 
 Doctor Rameau Georges Ohnet 
 
 The Mummer's Wife George Moore 
 
 A Modern Lover George Moore 
 
 Fettered by Fate Emma F. Southworth 
 
 The Jolly Songster. .Words and Music. 
 
 Lover or Husband Chas. de Bernard 
 
 Dr. Phillips Frank Dauby 
 
 The Lost Diamond D. G. AUce 
 
 How Men Make Love and Get Married. 
 
 The Chouans Honore de Bulzao 
 
 Famous Romances of Voltaire.. ..Voltaire 
 
 The Countess' Love Prosper Merimoe 
 
 Dr. Perdue Stinson Jai vis 
 
 For sale everywhere, or sent postpaid, on receipt of price, by 
 
 Laird & Lee, 363-365 w abash Ave., Chicago
 
 University of California 
 
 SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 
 
 Return this material to the library 
 
 from which it was borrowed. 
 
 APR 07 1997 
 N311997
 
 A 000 032 289 1