"Leave town?" echoed the iron-founder. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know yet."

"But you are coming back?"

"No."

Once more Raymer puffed at the shortened cigar until the end of it
glowed like a small distress signal in the dark.

"Tell me," he broke out finally: "has Margery Grierson turned you down?"

"No."

"Then Charlotte has?"

"No."

"Confound it all! can't you say anything but 'No'? Do you mean to tell
me that you are going away, leaving me bucked and gagged by this labor
outfit to live or die as I may? Great Scott, man! if my money's gone,
yours goes with it!"

"You are freely welcome to the money, Edward--if you can manage to hang
on to it; and I have pointed out the easy way to salvage the industrial
ship. Can't you give me your blessing and let me go in peace?"

The blessing was not withheld, but neither was it given.

"I came here with my own back-load of trouble, but it seems that I'm not
the only camel in the caravan," said the young ironmaster, thoughtfully.
"What is it, Kenneth? anything you can unload on me?"

"You wouldn't understand," was the gentle evasion. "I can only give you
my word that neither Miss Margery nor Miss Charlotte are in any way
concerned in it."

"And you don't want to draw your money out of the plant?"

"No. For your sake I wish I had more to put in."

Once again Raymer took refuge in silence. After a time he said: "You've
been a brother to me, Griswold, and I shall never forget that. But if I
needed your help in the money pinch, I'm needing it worse now. I'll do
the right thing by Margery; I think I've been meaning to, all along; if
I haven't, it's only because this whole town has been fixing up a match
between Charlotte and me ever since we were school kids together--you
know how a fellow gets into the way of taking a thing like that for
granted merely because everybody else does?"

"Yes; I know."

"Well, I guess it isn't a heart-breaker on either side. If Charlotte
cares, she doesn't take the trouble to show it. Just the same, on the
other hand, I've got a shred or two of decency left, Kenneth. I'm not
going to marry myself out of this fight with Jasper Grierson--not in a
million years. Stay over and help me see it through; and when we win
out, I promise you I'll do the square thing."

By no means could Edward Raymer know that he had set the whispering
devil at work again at the ear of the man who was rocking gently in the
desk-chair. But the dem