highest
morality--under his own code. For the code enacted by ordinary human
beings to guide their foolish little selves he had no more respect than
a lion would have for a moral code enacted by and for sheep. The sheep
might assert that their code was for lions also; but why should that
move the lions to anything but amusement? He had made his own
code--not by special revelation from the Almighty, as did some of his
fellow practitioners of high finance, but by especial command of his
imperial "destiny." And it was a strict code--it had earned him his
unblemished reputation for inflexible commercial honesty and commercial
truthfulness. The foundation principle was his absolute right to the
great property he had created. This being granted, how could there be
immorality in any act whatsoever that might be necessary to hold or
regain his kingdom? As well debate the morality of a mother in
"commandeering" bread or even a life to save her baby from death.

His kingdom! His by discovery, his by adroit appropriation, his by
intelligent development, his by the right of mental might--HIS! Stake
his sister's and his mother's possessions for it? Their lives, if
necessary!

Than John Dumont, president of the Woolens Monopoly, there was no
firmer believer in the gospel of divine right--the divine right of this
new race of kings, the puissant lords of trade.

When he had finished his preparations for the money-lenders he unlocked
the door and sank into bed exhausted. Hardly had he settled himself
when, without knocking, Gladys entered, Pauline just behind her. His
face blanched and from his dry throat came a hoarse, strange cry--it
certainly sounded like fright. "You startled me--that was all," he
hastened to explain, as much to himself as to them. For, a something
inside him had echoed the wondering inquiry in the two women's faces--a
something that persisted in reverencing the moral code which his new
code had superseded.

XXVII.

THE OTHER MAN'S MIGHT.

At eleven o'clock on Monday morning James, head of the Fanning-Smith
family, president of Fanning-Smith and Company, and chairman of the
Great Lakes and Gulf railway--to note his chief titles to eminence
up-town and down--was seated in his grandfather's office, in his
grandfather's chair, at his grandfather's desk. Above his head hung
his grandfather's portrait; and he was a slightly modernized
reproduction of it. As he was thus in every outward essenti