r from the acceptance
of just causes, Mr. Flint. As I understand the matter, it is the custom
of your railroad to send these passes to the young lawyers of the State
the moment they begin to give signs of ability. This past would prevent
me from serving clients who might have righteous claims against your
railroads, and--permit me to speak frankly--in my opinion the practice
tends to make it difficult for poor people who have been injured to get
efficient lawyers."

"Your own father is retained by the railroad," said Mr. Flint.

"As their counsel," answered Austen. "I have a pride in my profession,
Mr. Flint, as no doubt you have in yours. If I should ever acquire
sufficient eminence to be sought as counsel for a railroad, I should make
my own terms with it. I should not allow its management alone to decide
upon the value of my retainer, and my services in its behalf would be
confined strictly to professional ones."

Mr. Flint drummed on the table.

"What do you mean by that?" he demanded.

"I mean that I would not engage, for a fee or a pass, to fight the
political battles of a railroad, or undertake any political manipulation
in its behalf whatever."

Mr. Flint leaned forward aggressively.

"How long do you think a railroad would pay dividends if it did not adopt
some means of defending itself from the blackmail politician of the State
legislatures, Mr. Vane? The railroads of which I have the honour to be
president pay a heavy tag in this and other States. We would pay a much
heavier one if we didn't take precautions to protect ourselves. But I do
not intend to quarrel with you, Mr. Vane," he continued quickly,
perceiving that Austen was about to answer him, "nor do I wish to leave
you with the impression that the Northeastern Railroads meddle unduly in
politics."

Austen knew not how to answer. He had not gone there to discuss this last
and really great question with Mr. Flint, but he wondered whether the
president actually thought him the fledgling he proclaimed. Austen laid
his pass on Mr. Flint's desk, and rose.

"I assure you, Mr. Flint, that the spirit which prompted my visit was not
a contentious one. I cannot accept the pass, simply because I do not wish
to be retained."

Mr. Flint eyed him. There was a mark of dignity, of silent power, on this
tall scapegrace of a son of Hilary Vane that the railroad president had
missed at first--probably because he had looked only for the scapegrace.
Mr. Flint