to the conclusion that succeeding his
father would have entailed the performance of many wearisome duties;
but that future being denied him, it was more than ever necessary to
seize some opportunity of personal distinction.

The discussion as to the destruction of the Cove had seemed to offer
him every chance of attaining a prominent position. The matter had
grown in importance every day. Pendragon had divided into two separate
and sharply-distinguished camps, one standing valiantly by its standard
of picturesque tradition and its hatred of modern noise and
materialism, the other asserting loudly its love of utility and
progress, derisively pointing the finger of scorn at old-world
Conservatism run mad and an incredible affection for defective
drainage. Garrett had flung himself heart and soul (as he said) into
the latter of these parties, and, feeling that this was a chance of
distinction that fortune was not likely to offer him again in the near
future, appeared frequently at discussions and even on one occasion in
the Town Hall spoke.

But he was surprised and disappointed; he found that he had nothing to
say, the truth being that he was much more interested in Garrett than
in the Cove, and that his audience had come to listen to the second of
these two subjects rather than the first. He found himself shelved; he
was most politely told that he was not wanted, and he retired into his
carpet-slippers again after one of those terrible quarters of an hour
when he peeped past the curtain and saw a miserable, naked puppet
shivering in a grey world, and that puppet was Garrett Trojan.

Then suddenly a second opportunity presented itself. Robin's trouble
was unexpectedly reassuring. This, he told himself, was the very
thing. If he could only prove to the world that he had dealt
successfully with practical matters in a practical way, he need never
worry again. Let him deal with this affair promptly and resourcefully,
as a man of the world and a true Trojan, and his position was assured.
He must obtain the letters and at once. He spent several pleasant
hours picturing the scene in which he returned the letters to Robin.
He knew precisely the moment, the room, the audience that he would
choose--he had decided on the words that he would speak, but he was not
sure yet as to how he would obtain the letters.

He thought over it for three days and came to no conclusion. It ought
not to be difficult; the girl was proba