usten did what he thought was
right. In the opinion of many of his father's friends whom he met from
time to time he had made a good-sized stride towards ruin, and they
did not hesitate to tell him so--Mr. Chipman, president of the Ripton
National Bank; Mr. Greene, secretary and treasurer of the Hawkeye Paper
Company, who suggested with all kindness that, however noble it may be,
it doesn't pay to tilt at windmills.

"Not unless you wreck the windmill," answered Austen. A new and very
revolutionary point of view to Mr. Greene, who repeated it to Professor
Brewer, urging that gentleman to take Austen in hand. But the professor
burst out laughing, and put the saying into circulation.

Mr. Silas Tredway, whose list of directorships is too long to print,
also undertook to remonstrate with the son of his old friend, Hilary
Vane. The young lawyer heard him respectfully. The cashiers of some
of these gentlemen, who were younger men, ventured to say--when out of
hearing--that they admired the championship of Mr. Mender, but it would
never do. To these, likewise, Austen listened good-naturedly enough, and
did not attempt to contradict them. Changing the angle of the sun-dial
does not affect the time of day.

It was not surprising that young Tom Gaylord, when he came back from New
York and heard of Austen's victory, should have rushed to his office and
congratulated him in a rough but hearty fashion. Even though Austen
had won a suit against the Gaylord Lumber Company, young Tom would have
congratulated him. Old Tom was a different matter. Old Tom, hobbling
along under the maples, squinted at Austen and held up his stick.

"Damn you, you're a lawyer, ain't you?" cried the old man.

Austen, well used to this kind of greeting from Mr. Gaylord, replied
that he didn't think himself much of one.

"Damn it, I say you are. Some day I may have use for you," said old Tom,
and walked on.

"No," said young Tom, afterwards, in explanation of this extraordinary
attitude of his father, "it isn't principle. He's had a row with the
Northeastern about lumber rates, and swears he'll live till he gets even
with 'em."

If Professor Brewer (Ripton's most clear-sighted citizen) had made the
statement that Hilary Vane--away down in the bottom of his heart--was
secretly proud of his son, the professor would probably have lost his
place on the school board, the water board, and the library committee.
The way the worldly-wise professor discovered