on the veranda that opened out from the back parlor he
found Dory Hargrave, reading. He no longer felt bitter toward Dory.
Thinking over the whole of the Ranger-Whitney relations and the sudden
double break in them, he had begun to believe that perhaps Adelaide had
had the good luck to make an extremely clever stroke when she shifted
from Ross Whitney to Hargrave. Anyhow, Dory was a fine fellow, both in
looks and in brains, with surprisingly good, yes, really amazing air and
manner--considering his opportunities; he'd be an ornament to any family
as soon as he had money enough properly to equip himself--which would be
very soon, now that the great Dawson was about to open fire on the will
and demolish it.

"Howdy," he accordingly said, with only a shade less than his old
friendliness, and that due to embarrassment, and not at all to ill
feeling. "Where's mother--and Del?"

"Your sister has taken your mother for a drive," replied Hargrave.

"Smoke?" said Arthur, extending his gold cigarette case, open.

Dory preferred his own brand of cigarettes; but, feeling that he ought to
meet any advance of Arthur's, he took one of the big, powerful Egyptians
with "A.K." on it in blue monogram. They smoked in silence a moment or
so, Arthur considering whether to practise on Dory the story of his
proposed contest, to enable him to tell it in better form to his mother
and sister. "I've been to Chicago to see about contesting the will," he
began, deciding for the rehearsal.

"I supposed so," said Hargrave.

"Of course, for mother's and Del's sake I simply have to do it," he went
on, much encouraged. "Anyone who knew father knows he must have been out
of his mind when he made that will."

"I see your point of view," said Dory, embarrassed. Then, with an effort
he met Arthur's eyes, but met them fearlessly. "You misunderstood me. I
think a contest is a mistake."

Arthur flamed. "Naturally you defend your father," he sneered.

"Let us leave my father out of this," said Dory. His manner made it
impossible for Arthur to persist. For Dory was one of those who have
the look of "peace with honor" that keeps to bounds even the man
crazed by anger.

"You can't deny I have a legal right to make the contest," pursued
Arthur.

"Undoubtedly."

"And a moral right, too," said Arthur, somewhat defiantly.

"Yes," assented Dory. The tone of the "yes"--or was it Arthur's own
self-respect--made him suspect Dory of thinking that a man might