ust the same, I like you, and
I think you are the man to get away with it. Come down to my place
tomorrow and let me show you what we have. I want to show our resources.
I don't think you know how big this thing really is."

"Yes, I do," replied Eugene, smiling. "It certainly is a fascinating
proposition. But I can't make up my mind about it now. It's something I
want to think about. I'd like to take my time, and I'll let you know."

"Take all the time you want, my boy! Take all the time you want!"
exclaimed Colfax. "I'll wait for you a little while. I'm in no
life-or-death hurry. This position can't be filled satisfactorily in a
minute. When you're ready, let me know what you decide. And now let's go
to the theatre--what do you say?"

The automobile was called, Mrs. Colfax and her guest, Miss Genier,
appeared. There was an interesting evening in a box, with Eugene talking
gaily and entertainingly to all, and then an after-theatre bite at
Sherry's. The next morning, for he stayed all night at Colfax's, they
visited the United Magazines Corporation building together, and at noon
Eugene returned to Philadelphia.

His head was fairly seething and ringing with all he had seen and heard.
Colfax was a great man, he thought, greater in some respects than
Kalvin. He was more forceful, more enthusiastic, younger--more like
himself, than Kalvin. He could never fail, he was too rich. He would
make a success of this great corporation--a tremendous success--and if
he went he might help make it with him. What a thing that would be! Very
different from working for a corporation with whose success he had never
had anything to do. Should he ignore this offer? New York, a true art
and literary standing; a great executive and social standing; fame;
money--all these were calling. Why, on eighteen or twenty-five thousand
he could have a splendid studio apartment of his own, say on Riverside
Drive; he could entertain magnificently; he could keep an automobile
without worrying about it. Angela would cease feeling that they had to
be careful. It would be the apex of lieutenantship for him. Beyond that
he would take stock in the company, or a business of his own. What a
long distance he had come from the days when, here as a boy, he had
walked the streets, wondering where he would find a $3 room, and when as
an art failure he carried his paintings about and sold them for ten and
fifteen dollars. Dear Heaven, what peculiar tricks fortune coul