dearest papa that
ever was!" she said. Then--"Who was he? He looked like a crazy man!"

"No doubt he is," was my reply. And I began complimenting her on her
skill with horses, chiefly to prevent her pressing me about the man. I
had heard, and had done, so much lying that I had a horror of it, and
tried to make my children absolutely truthful--my boy Ed used to think
up and do mischief just for the pleasure of pleasing me by confessing.
To make my example effective, I was always strictly truthful with them.
I did not wish to tell her who the man was; but I instantly recognized,
through the drunken dishevelment, my mutineer, Granby--less than a year
before one of the magnates of the state. My orders about him had been
swiftly and literally obeyed. Deserted by his associates, blacklisted at
the banks, beset by his creditors, harassed by the attorney general, his
assets chained with injunctions, his liabilities given triple fangs, he
went bankrupt, took to drink, became a sot and a barroom lounger. His
dominant passion was hatred of me; he discharged the rambling and
frantic story of his wrongs upon whoever would listen. And here he was
in Fredonia!

I had one of my secretaries telephone the police to look after him; they
reported that he had disappeared.

The next morning but one, my daughter and I went for an early walk. At
the turn of the main drive just beyond view from the lodge, she
exclaimed, "Oh, father, _oh_!" and clung to me. Something--like a
scarecrow, but not a scarecrow--swung from a limb overhanging the drive.
The face was distorted and swollen; the arms and legs were drawn up in
sickening crookedness. Before I saw, I knew it was Granby.

I took Frances home, then returned, passing the swaying horror far on
the other side of the road. I got the lodge-keeper, and he and I went
back together. I had them telephone from the lodge for the coroner and
personally saw to it that the corpse should be reported as found in the
open woods a long distance from my place. But Granby had left a message
"to the public" in his room at the hotel: "Senator Sayler ruined me and
drove me to death. I have gone to hang myself in his park. Down with
monopoly!" In spite of my efforts, this was published throughout the
country--though not in Fredonia. Such of the big opposition papers as
were not under our control sent reporters and raked out the whole story;
and it was blown up hugely and told everywhere. Our organs retold it,
gi