asant laugh, Mag. No--wait. Let me tell you the rest.

"You are so shrewd, Olden, so awfully shrewd! Your eye is so
everlastingly out for the main chance, and you're still so young that I
predict a--a great future for you. I might even suggest that by
cultivating Tausig personally--"

"You needn't."

"No, you're right; I needn't. You can discount any suggestion I might
make. You just want to be the first to go over, eh? To get there
before Gray does--to get all there is in it for the first rebel that
lays down his arms; not to come in late when submission is stale--and
cheap. Don't worry about terms, you poor little babe in the woods.
Don't--" His own words seemed to choke him.

"Don't you think--" I began a bit unsteadily.

"I think--oh, what a fool I've been!"

That stiffened me.

"Of course, you have," I said cordially. "It's silly to fight the
push, isn't it? It's only the cranks that get cocky and think they can
upset the fellows on top. The thing to do is to find out which is the
stronger--if you're a better man than the other fellow, down him. If
he's the champion, enlist under him. But be in it. What's the use of
being a kicker all your life? You only let some one else come in for
the soft things, while you stay outside and gnaw your finger-nails and
plot and plan and starve. You spend your life hoping to live to-morrow,
while the Tausigs are living high to-day. The thing to do is to be
humble if you can't be arrogant. If they've got you in the door, don't
curse, but placate them. Think of Gaffney herding sheep out in Nevada;
of Iringer in the asylum; of Howison--"

"Admirable! admirable!" he interrupted sarcastically. "The only fault
I have to find with your harangue is that you've misconceived my
meaning entirely. But I needn't enlighten you. Good morning, Miss
Olden--good-by."

He turned to his desk and pulled out some papers. I knew he wasn't so
desperately absorbed in them as he pretended to be.

"Won't you shake hands," I asked, "and wish me luck?"

He put down his pen. His face was white and hard, but as he looked at
me it gradually softened.

"I suppose--I suppose, I am a bit unreasonable just this minute," he
said slowly. "I'm hard hit and--and I don't just know the way out.
Still, I haven't any right to--to expect more of you than there is in
you, you poor little thing! It's not your fault, but mine, that I've
expected--Oh, for God's sake--Nance--go, and leave me