t the thing to a finish--putting
himself where he had been before the fire; rehabilitating himself in
the eyes of the public. He felt that he could do it, too, if he were
not actually sent to prison for a long term; and even then, so naturally
optimistic was his mood, when he got out again. But, in so far as
Philadelphia was concerned, distinctly he was dreaming vain dreams.

One of the things militating against him was the continued opposition
of Butler and the politicians. Somehow--no one could have said exactly
why--the general political feeling was that the financier and the former
city treasurer would lose their appeals and eventually be sentenced
together. Stener, in spite of his original intention to plead guilty and
take his punishment without comment, had been persuaded by some of his
political friends that it would be better for his future's sake to plead
not guilty and claim that his offense had been due to custom, rather
than to admit his guilt outright and so seem not to have had
any justification whatsoever. This he did, but he was convicted
nevertheless. For the sake of appearances, a trumped-up appeal was made
which was now before the State Supreme Court.

Then, too, due to one whisper and another, and these originating with
the girl who had written Butler and Cowperwood's wife, there was at this
time a growing volume of gossip relating to the alleged relations of
Cowperwood with Butler's daughter, Aileen. There had been a house in
Tenth Street. It had been maintained by Cowperwood for her. No wonder
Butler was so vindictive. This, indeed, explained much. And even in the
practical, financial world, criticism was now rather against Cowperwood
than his enemies. For, was it not a fact, that at the inception of his
career, he had been befriended by Butler? And what a way to reward that
friendship! His oldest and firmest admirers wagged their heads. For
they sensed clearly that this was another illustration of that innate "I
satisfy myself" attitude which so regulated Cowperwood's conduct. He was
a strong man, surely--and a brilliant one. Never had Third Street seen a
more pyrotechnic, and yet fascinating and financially aggressive, and
at the same time, conservative person. Yet might one not fairly tempt
Nemesis by a too great daring and egotism? Like Death, it loves a
shining mark. He should not, perhaps, have seduced Butler's daughter;
unquestionably he should not have so boldly taken that check, especiall