leech upon his
veins--difficult though this task was, Victor Dorn knew that he had
about accomplished it, when David Hull appeared. A new personality; a
plausible personality, deceptive because self-deceiving--yet not so
thoroughly self-deceived that it was in danger of hindering its own
ambition. David Hull--just the kind of respectable, popular figurehead
and cloak the desperate Kelly-House conspiracy needed.

How far had the "army of education" prepared the people for seeing
through this clever new fraud upon them? Victor Dorn could not judge.
He hoped for the best; he was prepared for the worst.

The better to think out the various problems of the new situation,
complicated by his apparent debt of gratitude to Davy, Victor went
forth into the woods very early the next morning. He wandered far, but
ten o'clock found him walking in the path in the strip of woods near
the high road along the upper side of the park. And when Jane Hastings
appeared, he was standing looking in the direction from which she would
have to come. It was significant of her state of mind that she had
given small attention to her dress that morning. Nor was she looking
her best in expression or in color. Her eyes and her skin suggested an
almost sleepless night.

He did not advance. She came rapidly as if eager to get over that
embarrassing space in which each could see the other, yet neither could
speak without raising the voice. When she was near she said:

"You think you owe something to Davy Hull for what he did?"

"The people think so," said he. "And that's the important thing."

"Well--you owe him nothing," pursued she.

"Nothing that would interfere with the cause," replied he. "And that
would be true, no matter what he had done."

"I mean he did nothing for you," she explained. "I forgot to tell you
yesterday. The whole thing was simply a move to further his ambition.
I happened to be there when he talked with father and enlisted him."

Victor laughed. "It was your father who put it through. I might have
known!"

"At first I tried to interpose. Then--I stopped." She stood before
him with eyes down. "It came to me that for my own sake it would be
better that you should lose this fall. It seemed to me that if you won
you would be farther out of my reach." She paused, went steadily on:
"It was a bad feeling I had that you must not get anything except with
my help. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly," said he c