hed, said "By George!" again, folded
the paper up and put it in his pocket.

The ice-cream was brought and described as "_Panillapolitan_ cream,
sah," and Fairfax lit a cigar and puffed it fast and then said
suddenly--

"Do you know what hate is, Rainsford? I reckon you don't. Your face
doesn't bear any traces of it."

"Yes, Fairfax," said the other, "I know what it is--it's a disease which
means battle, murder, and sudden death."

The young man took the paper out of his pocket and unfolded it, and
Rainsford was surprised to see his hands tremble, the beautiful clever
hands with the stained finger ends and the clean, beautiful palm.
Falutini did more work than Fairfax now. He slaved for his master.

"Read that, Rainsford." He tapped a headline with his forefinger. "It
sounds like an event."

THE UNVEILING OF THE ABYDOS SPHINX IN CENTRAL PARK
CEDERSHOLM'S WONDERFUL PEDESTAL.
THE DIFFICULT TRANSPORTATION OF THE EGYPTIAN
MONUMENT FROM THE PORT TO THE PARK.
UNVEILING TO TAKE PLACE NEXT SATURDAY.

The article went on to speak of the dignified marble support, and hinted
at four prehistoric creatures in bronze which were supposed to be the
masterpieces of modern sculpture.

Rainsford read it through. "Very interesting. An event, as you say,
Tony. Cedersholm has made himself a great reputation."

"_Damn him!_" breathed the engineer. His heart was beating wildly, he
felt a suffocation in his breast. A torrent of feeling swept up in him.
No words could say what a storm and a tempest the notice caused.

"Jealous," Rainsford thought. "Cedersholm has all that poor Fairfax
desires."

Overcome by the memories the headlines recalled, overcome by his anger
and the injustice, Fairfax's face grew white.

"Take a little more coffee, Kunnell," said George Washington at his
elbow.

"No." Antony repulsed him rudely. "Did you read it all, Rainsford?"

"I think so. I dare say this will bring Cedersholm close on a hundred
thousand dollars."

"It will pave his way to hell one day, Rainsford," said the engineer,
leaning across the table. "It will indeed! Why, it is a monument of
injustice and dishonour. Do you know what that Sphinx rests on,
Rainsford, do you know?"

For a moment the railroad agent thought his friend had lost his senses
brooding over his discarded art, his spoiled life.

"Four huge prehistoric creatures," Rainsford read mildly.

Fairfax's lips trembled. "It rests on a man's heart a