m the money lenders," George said, easily.

He didn't care whether Wandel thought him a forgiving fool or a
calculating scoundrel. Goodhue and Wandel had long since seen that he
had been put up at a number of clubs. The two had fancied they could
control Dalrymple's resentments. George, following his system, preferred
a whip in his own hand. He harboured no thought of revenge, but he did
want to be able to protect himself. He would use every possible means.
This was one.

"We'll see," Wandel said. "It's too bad great men don't get along with
little wasters."

III

More than once George was tempted to follow Sylvia, trusting to luck to
find means of being near her. Such a trip might, indeed, lead to profit
if the off chance should develop. Still that could be handled better
from this side, and it was, after all, a chance. He must trust to her
coming back as she had gone. His place for the present was with Blodgett
and Mundy.

The chance, however, was at the back of his head when he encountered
Allen late one hot night in a characteristic pose in Times Square. Allen
still talked, but his audience of interested or tolerant college men had
been replaced by hungry, ragged loafers and a few flushed, well-dressed
males of the type that prefers any diversion to a sane return home.
Allen stood in the centre of this group. His arms gestured broadly. His
angular face was passionate. From the few words George caught his
sympathy for these failures was beyond measure. He suggested to them the
beauties of violence, the brilliancies of the social revolution. The
loafers commented. The triflers laughed. Policemen edged near.

"Free liquor!" a voice shrilled.

Allen shook his fist, and continued. The proletariat would have to take
matters into its own hands.

"Fine!" a hoarse and beery listener shouted, "but what'll the cops say
about it?"

The edging policemen didn't bother to say anything at first. They
quietly scattered the scarecrows and the laggards. They indicated the
advisability of retreat for the orator. Then one burst out at Allen.

"God help the proletariat if I have to take it before McGloyne at the
station house."

And George heard another sneer:

"Social revolution! They've been trying to throw Tammany out ever since
I can remember."

George got Allen away. The angular man was glad to see him.

"You look overworked," George said. "Come have a modest supper with me."

Allen was hungry, but he managed t