third time, carefully running down the column with his finger. Then he
leaned back in his chair and reflected. The single light flooded the
desk and cast its shadows out into the great office, but the boy's eyes
never left the papers before him.

"That's mighty strange," he said aloud. "I'll bet Lady Pat got it
straight, but if she did that list ought to show it."

He leaned forward again and turned to the early pages. "Courtney,
Cousens, Covell, Coveney--Covington ought to come in right there." Then
he turned the pages over rapidly--"Goodrich, Goodspeed, Goodwin, Gordon,
Gore--there isn't any Gorham there, either."

For several moments he sat there deep in thought. Suddenly he rose and
struck the top of the desk a resounding blow with his fist.

"Chump!" he cried. "Of course he didn't. Oh, I'm a great business man, I
am, thinking he'd buy those shares in his own name or in Alice's. It's
back to the dear old farm for me. Chump!"

He restored the papers to their proper places, picked up Patricia's
bank, which he still had with him, turned out the light, and then
tramped down the long flights of stairs to work off his excitement. He
was disappointed not to have succeeded in this first attempt to prove
his suspicions, but he found some consolation in the certainty which
came to him, even in the face of this defeat, that he was on the right
track.

For the next few days more immediate matters kept him completely
occupied. Gorham told him enough of what had happened at the meeting to
make him feel at once elated and concerned.

"You were right to a degree, my boy, and I give you credit for it; but
don't think for a moment that there is going to be any change in the
administration of the Consolidated Companies."

"You'll have a hard fight on your hands, Mr. Gorham. They aren't the
kind of men to let you force them any longer than they have to."

"That will be as long as we remain associated in the corporation,"
Gorham said, with conviction. "It does mean a greater burden for me and
for Covington and for you, as for all those who remain loyal, but the
game is worth the struggle. This is what makes life worth living, boy.
Struggles are nothing--I've had them always; it's only the lost faith
which slips in under one's guard and stings."

Allen longed to ask just where Covington claimed to stand, but he
dreaded further imputations as to the motives underlying his question.
Then, later, it occurred to him that he might