nt to meet his opponents and his enemies; and few
visitors came into his presence, here or elsewhere, who were not to be
got the better of, if possible. A life-long habit had accustomed Mr.
Flint to treat all men as adversaries until they were proved otherwise.
His square, close-cropped head, his large features, his alert eyes, were
those of a fighter.

He did not rise, but nodded. Suddenly Austen was enveloped in a flame of
wrath that rose without warning and blinded him, and it was with a
supreme effort to control himself that he stopped in the doorway. He was
frightened, for he had felt this before, and he knew it for the anger
that demands physical violence.

"Come in, Mr. Vane," said the president.

Austen advanced to the desk, and laid the boxes before Mr. Flint.

"Mr. Vane told me to say that he would have brought these himself, had it
been possible. Here is the list, and I shall be much obliged if you will
verify it before I go back."

"Sit down." said Mr. Flint.

Austen sat down, with the corner of the desk between them, while Mr.
Flint opened the boxes and began checking off the papers on the list.

"How is your father this afternoon?" he asked, without looking up.

"As well as can be expected," said Austen.

"Of course nobody knew his condition but himself," Mr. Flint continued;
"but it was a great shock to me--when he resigned as my counsel three
days ago."

Austen laid his forearm on the desk, and his hand closed.

"He resigned three days ago?" he exclaimed.

Mr. Flint was surprised, but concealed it.

"I can understand, under the circumstances, how he has overlooked telling
you. His resignation takes effect to-day."

Austen was silent a moment, while he strove to apply this fact to his
father's actions.

"He waited until after the convention."

"Exactly," said Mr. Flint, catching the implied accusation in Austen's
tone; "and needless to say, if I had been able to prevent his going, in
view of what happened on Monday night, I should have done so. As you
know, after his--accident, he went to the capital without informing any
one."

"As a matter of honour," said Austen.

Mr. Flint looked up from the papers, and regarded him narrowly, for the
tone in which this was spoken did not escape the president of the
Northeastern. He saw, in fact, that at the outset he had put a weapon
into Austen's hands. Hilary's resignation was a vindication of Austen's
attitude, an acknowledgment that the busi