ng to bring considerable pressure to bear
to make you let go."

He paused again, waiting to see if Eugene would say something, but the
latter made no comment.

"I want to ask one question, and I don't want you to take any offense at
it, for I don't mean anything by it, but it will help to clear this
matter up in my own mind, and probably in yours later, if you will. Have
you had anything to do in a compromising way with Miss----?"

"No," said Eugene before he could finish.

"How long has this fight been going on?"

"Oh, about four weeks, or a little less."

Colfax bit at the end of his cigar.

"You have powerful enemies here, you know, Witla. Your rule hasn't been
very lenient. One of the things I have noticed about you is your utter
inability to play politics. You have picked men who would be very glad
to have your shoes, if they could. If they could get the details of this
predicament, your situation wouldn't be tenable more than fifteen
minutes. You know that, of course. In spite of anything I might do you
would have to resign. You couldn't maintain yourself here. I couldn't
let you. You haven't thought of that in this connection, I suppose. No
man in love does. I know just how you feel. From having seen Mrs. Witla,
I can tell in a way just what the trouble is. You have been reined in
too close. You haven't been master in your own home. It's irritated you.
Life has appeared to be a failure. You have lost your chance, or thought
you had on this matrimonial game, and it's made you restless. I know
this girl. She's beautiful. But just as I say, old man, you haven't
counted the cost--you haven't calculated right--you haven't planned. If
anything could prove to me what I have always faintly suspected about
you, it is this: You don't plan carefully enough----" and he looked out
of the window.

Eugene sat staring at the floor. He couldn't make out just what it was
that Colfax intended to do about it. He was calmer in his thinking than
he had ever seen him before--less dramatic. As a rule, Colfax yelled
things--demonstrated, performed--made excited motions. This morning, he
was slow, thoughtful, possibly emotional.

"In spite of the fact that I like you personally, Witla--and every man
owes a little something to friendship--it can't be worked out in
business, though--I have been slowly coming to the conclusion that
perhaps, after all, you aren't just the ideal man for this place. You're
too emotional, I fancy--too