ve Braden if the
operation was a success."

"And also if it failed," said one of the men, sententiously. "He's the
principal heir, isn't he?"

Simmy scowled. "Brady would be the last man in the world to tackle the
job," he said, and the subject was dropped at once.

And so the end of the year finds Templeton Thorpe on his death bed, Anne a
quixotic ingrate, George among the diligently unemployed, Lutie on the
crest of popularity, Braden in contempt of court, and Mrs. Tresslyn sorely
tried by the vagaries of each and every one of the aforesaid persons.

Simmy Dodge appears to be the only one among them all who stands just as
he did at the beginning of the year. He has neither lost nor gained. He
has merely stood still.

CHAPTER XI

When Dr. Braden Thorpe arrived in New York City on the fourteenth of March
he was met at the pier by a horde of newspaper men. For the first time, he
was made to appreciate "the importance of being earnest." These men,
through a frequently prompted spokesman, put questions to him that were so
startling in their boldness that he was staggered by the misconception
that had preceded him into his home land.

He was asked such questions as these: "But, doctor, would you do that sort
of thing to a person who was dear to you,--say a wife, a mother or an only
child?" "How could you be sure that a person was hopelessly afflicted?"
"Have you ever put this theory of yours into practice on the other side?"
"How many lives have you taken in this way, doctor,--if it is a fair
question?" "Do you expect to practise openly in New York?" "And if you do
practise, how many patients do you imagine would come to you, knowing your
views?" "How would you kill 'em,--with poison or what?" And so on, almost
without end.

He was to find that a man can become famous and infamous in a single
newspaper headline, and as for the accuracy of the interviews there was
but one thing to be said: the questions were invariably theirs and the
answers also. He did his best to make them understand that he was merely
advancing a principle and not practising a crime, that his hand had never
been brought down to kill, that his heart was quite as tender as any other
man's, and that he certainly was not advocating murder in any degree. Nor
was he at present attempting to proselyte.

When he finally escaped the reporters, his brow was wet with the sweat of
one who finds himself confronted by a superior force and with no mea