enge."

"Our challenge, Mr. Ames," she returned, "is the challenge which evil
always finds in good. It is perpetual."

"Fine!" he exclaimed. "I like a good enemy, and an honest one. All
right, marshal your forces. Who's your general, Hitt or Haynerd?"

"God," she answered simply.

For an instant the man was taken back. Then he recovered himself, and
laughed.

"Do you know," he said, bending close to her, "I admire you _very_
much. You are a splendid little fighter. Now let's see if we can't get
together on terms of peace. The world hasn't used you right, and I
don't blame you for being at odds with it. I've wanted to talk with
you about this for some time. The pin-headed society hens got jealous
and tried to kill you. But, if you'll just say the word, I'll set you
right up on the very pinnacle of social prestige here. I'll take you
by the hand and lead you down through the whole crowd of 'em, and
knock 'em over right and left! I'll make you the leading woman of the
city; I'll back the Express; we'll make it the biggest newspaper in
the country; I'll make you and your friends rich and powerful; I'll
put you in the place that is rightfully yours, eh? Will you let me?"

He was bending ever nearer, and his hand closed over hers when he
concluded. His eyes were looking eagerly into her face, and a smile,
winning, enticing, full of meaning, played about his lips. His voice
had dropped to a whisper.

Carmen returned his smile, but withdrew her hand. "I'll join you," she
said, "on one condition."

"Name it!" he eagerly cried.

"That you obey me."

"Well--and what does that mean?"

"Go; sell that thou hast; and give to the poor. Then come, take up the
cross, and follow--my leader."

He straightened up, and a sneer curled his lips. "I suppose," he
coarsely insinuated, "that you think you now have material for an
illuminating essay on my conversation."

"No," she said gently. "It is too dark to be illuminating."

The man's facial muscles twitched slightly under the sting, but he
retained his outward composure. "My dear girl," he said, "it probably
has not occurred to you that the world regards the Express as utterly
without excuse for existence. It says, and truly, that a wishy-washy
sheet such as it, with its devitalized, strained, and bolted reports
of the world's vivid happenings, deserves to go under from sheer lack
of interest. The experiment has been tried before, and has signally
failed. Money alone can k