streets; the whole gay, meaningless panorama of his life as a
homeless, unplaced New York sojourner, who had considered that he had
too much money to be anything seriously and too little money to do
anything effectively.... Then another picture, jerking, mazy, a study in
kinematics--"Crazy Monday" on the Street, Carington and he swept along
in that day's whirlwind of speculation.... A blank in the panorama while
he got used to things and thought things out.... Then a wintry twilight
at the club, Carington and he by the window, talking it over, looking
out upon the drifted light of the city, loving the city, in the way of
New Yorkers. Then Carington's voice saying, "Bruce? Bruce, m' son? Why
don't you try Missouri?" Saying it with that in his voice to indicate
that there was nothing else left to try. Then the long thoughtful talk,
Carington and he still by the window, while he showed Carington how
little chance he had even in Missouri; then Carington's strong-hearted
insistence that, in view of the agitation over the ore discoveries at
Joplin, he go on "out there" and prospect; and then Carington's
foolishly irrelevant heel-piece, "Miss Gossamer sails for Europe
Saturday!" and the sudden appeal of the notion to go "out there," its
sharp striking-in.... Carington and he taking counsel with some of the
other fellows in his rooms later on, all the deep voices roaring at
once, all the boys insulting him at once, belittling his cigars, saying
sharp things about his pictures, that being their way of showing him
that they were badly broken up over his leaving them; all their eyes
shining interest in him and hope for him and even envy of him, as the
young man who was "going out West," while the great soft fluff of smoke
in the room made the past a dream and the present an illusion and the
future a phantasm.... Then the long journey overland, the little impetus
toward the new life flickering drearily, while he gripped up his heart
for any fate, growing quieter and quieter, but more and more determined
to take Missouri as she came.... Then Missouri herself, the stop at St.
Louis, the dip into the State southwestward, toward the lead and zinc
country and his own debatable land; good-bye to the railroad; by team,
in company with other prospectors, through the sang hills, up and down
stony ridges, along vast cattle ranges.... And now here, quite alone,
twenty miles from the railroad, Missouri on all sides of him,
close-timbered, rock-