knew you would. Your pessimism didn't produce much effect on me. I've
heard men talk like that before. And, of course, when a chap gets into
the condition you were in, back there, there's no such thing as making
him believe he can ever pull out. You talked like an ass, that first
night, Spencer."

"And acted like a blackguard! I suppose you will allow me to refer to
that now?"

"Now less than ever, my good sir. As I've told you already, all that
belongs to the past. You're yourself again. What's the use of dwelling
on a time gone by, when you were in reality somebody else--or, rather,
nobody at all? When are you going to call at the Rathbawnes'? The old
man is pretty ill, I'm afraid, but I think the rest would like to see
you again. They were speaking of you only the other day--that is, one of
them was!"

"Not till this strike trouble is over, at all events; they have all they
can attend to at present, without being bothered by reformed drunkards.
And perhaps I sha'n't call at all. I haven't decided yet what would be
best."

Then, before Barclay had time to speak, he added:--

"By the way, I'm to take up the strike to-morrow, for the 'Sentinel.'"

"Are you?" exclaimed the Lieutenant-Governor, in a tone of the liveliest
interest. "That's good news. It must be about the most important
assignment they could give you, just now. Well, I wonder if you are
destined to be the only conscientious reporter in Kenton City, or
whether you will simply be like all the rest. Are you going to have the
courage of your convictions--which I think I can surmise, though you
haven't as yet confided them to me--or are you going to wear the
slave-chains of your fellows, and distort, and misrepresent, and truckle
and kow-tow to the policy of the most venal press in America?"

"_On fait ce qu'on peut_," said Cavendish, with a shrug. "Orders are
orders, John. If the orders of the editor don't go, the orders on the
cashier don't come. That's about all there is to it. It would be rather
futile to attempt the Don Quixote act, if only for the reason that one
would never get into print. One can't do more than follow instructions.
The reporter's best policy is his paper's best honesty."

"Honesty?" repeated the Lieutenant-Governor. "Where does the honesty
come in? Of course I understand your position. In a way, it is identical
with mine--subservience to a principle that you despise, acquiescence in
methods that you know to be utterly false an