true. Of
those who were "bears" against Northern Consolidated, from Storri to the
old gray buccaneer, the ones who must submit without a cry to being
flayed were Mr. Harley and Senator Hanway, for with them to be
discovered was to be destroyed.

After fullest conference, Mr. Harley went again to New York. It was
settled that the old gray buccaneer should continue in command. When he
who had beaten them unmasked himself, the old gray buccaneer was to
treat for generous terms. With the bankrupt Storri out, there remained
but seven to consider; the old gray buccaneer was to offer a round
ransom of seven millions of dollars, or one million for each. In similar
fashion beaten knights compounded in the dusty lists of Ashby eight
hundred years ago; the amount of ransom that Ashby day was less, but the
principle throughout the centuries has remained unshaken and unchanged.

After four days of wound-nursing, Storri went to the San Reve. He found
that lady of the gray-green eyes sitting sullen and silent, wrapped in
resentful anger like a witch's cloak. One thing in his favor; the San
Reve had not heard of his return, and supposed him just back from New
York.

Storri did his best to be on cheerful terms with the San Reve; he said
his business was now accomplished and he would see her every day. Storri
strove all he knew to soften the San Reve and turn her frowns to smiles.
He failed; nothing would unlock that flinty, hard reserve.

"About the Harleys," said the jealous San Reve at last. "How do you
stand with the Harleys? You still go there?"

The San Reve shot a sharp, inquiring glance at Storri from her
sea-green, sea-gray eyes.

Storri, being feline, was as has been written no one hard to rout, and
could be readily driven from an enterprise. With the loss of those
French shares, his designs on Mr. Harley and his power over Dorothy had
fallen to the ground. He was left with nothing more potent than his
naked hatred. He was more hungry than before for harm against the
Harleys, but the new conditions baffled him as might some bridgeless
gulf. He could see no open way through which he might find his enemies
and overcome them.

But Storri had his miserable prides, and would perish where he stood
rather than tell the San Reve this. With her he must pretend to power;
he must swagger and boast more loudly than before. This was the vanity
and the strategy of the man. He would have thrust his hand into the fire
sooner than conf