ng.

"Still, Procter, have you thought how impractical the machine must prove
to be? The world is after all as it is. Suppose a man, a poor young man,
has a rare gift. He must eat to live; he may have to support others. How
is he going to develop that gift?"

The inventor's face was suddenly filled with a fine light. He laid his
hand on Mr. Bartlett's arm. "There, sir, as I told John Massey, is where
the capitalist seeking to invest his money in the highest way finds his
great chance. He helps that young man to live in comfort while he is
developing his talent."

"Well," said Mr. Bartlett, "it's all very interesting, and if you will
let me, I'll do all I can to help you. We can talk of that at some other
time." He paused, and then said: "I hear John Massey has bought out the
hardware store here. I can't understand his object, but you may lose
your position. Have you thought of what you could do in that event?"

"No, I haven't."

"I came primarily to see your machine," Mr. Bartlett continued, "but I
had another object too. You know I have had tents put up in my yard for
those who were made homeless by the fire. And now I find it necessary to
go away in order to attend to some large interests. Can I make you my
steward over these people--at a salary, while I am away?

"There will be enough for you to do," continued Mr. Bartlett. "My wife
is away; my boy Graham will soon be in the city with his tutor. I shall
be back here before the severe weather sets in and see that these people
in some way are comfortably housed and provided for; but in the meantime
I want you."

"I'll be glad to do all I can," said Mr. Procter at last; then
fervently, "and thank you."

Someone knocked softly, and Suzanna entered. "This special letter came
for you, daddy," she said. "Mother said I might bring it up to you."

Mr. Procter took the letter, looked curiously at it before tearing it
open. He glanced through its contents, held it a second while he looked
away then he went through it again. It ran:

Dear Procter:

You've known for some time that Job Doane is
running the hardware shop in my interest. I bought
the place for a future purpose, never mind that
purpose, it isn't of interest to you or anyone in
Anchorville. I am confined to my room with an
attack of rheumatism, so I can't see you to talk
over a scheme which I have in mind. I will say