pportunity that now
occurred to him painfully, for the first time in his life. The thought
of Nort began to grow upon him, the thought, also, that some of his
rights were being trodden upon. Had he not come to the _Star_ with the
idea that Anthy---- Could he not have made a lot more money by going
with the Dexter _Enterprise_?

It is astonishing how cunningly life prepares for its explosions, how
adroitly it combines the nitre, the charcoal, the sulphur, of human
nature. First it grinds the ingredients separately--as Ed Smith was
being ground, as the spirit of Norton Carr was ground--and then it mixes
them in a mill, say a pleasant country printing-office, with a wren's
nest at the gable end, and there it subjects them to the enormous
pressure of necessity, of passion, of ambition. And when the mixture is
made, though the fuse which life lays may be long, the explosion is sure
to follow. A spark, say a stick of pied type, or a vagabond printer
absurdly looking for the truth of things, or the look in a girl's eyes,
and, bang--the world will never again be exactly what it was before.

Events moved swiftly with the _Star_ of Hempfield that forenoon. You
would not believe that so much could happen in a drowsy country
printing-office, on a drowsy Monday morning, in so short a time. I was
there when Nort came in, all unsuspecting. He came in quietly, not at
all like himself; he was, in fact, low in his spirits. He glanced at Ed
Smith, and began, as usual, to take off his coat in the corner. Ed was
sitting at his desk fiercely at work.

"Carr," said he, scarcely turning his head, "you needn't take off your
coat. Won't need you any longer. Gotta economize. Gotta cut down
expenses. I'll pay you what's coming to you right now."

There was a moment of absolute silence in the office. Tom, the cat, was
asleep by the stove. Fergus and I waited breathlessly. I fully expected
to see Nort explode; I didn't know in just what way, but somehow, in
Nort's way, whatever that might be. But he merely stood there, coat half
off, looking utterly mystified. Ed turned halfway around.

"Here's your money," he said.

The thing in all its crude reality was still incomprehensible to Nort.
He didn't know that such things were ever done in the world.

"You mean----" he stammered.

Ed was very angry. I excuse him somewhat on that ground, and Nort was
only a tramp printer anyway.

"You're fired," he said doggedly, "and here's your wages to date.