be a hermit."

News of the damage wrought by the recent storm was naturally of grave
concern to Henry Nelson, but owing to the fact that lines were down,
about his only source of information, during the days immediately
following it, was the press reports. He was reading the Dallas papers
with interest one morning when his attention was arrested by the name
of Calvin Gray. Now Gray's name in print affected the banker almost as
disagreeably as did a sight of the man himself; therefore it was with
intense resentment that he read the article in which it appeared. It
was a vividly written account of the former's experience during the
flood, and, due no doubt to Gray's personal touch, it read a good deal
like fiction. The man had a unique turn for publicity, a knack for
self-advertising that infuriated Nelson. To read this anybody would
think that he was one of the dominant figures in the oil industry, and
that his enterprises were immensely successful. With a sneer Nelson
flung the paper aside. So, that was how it had happened. The well had
been fired--Henry believed he could account for that--but a miracle had
quenched the flame. Falling drill stems! Who ever heard of such a
thing? Such luck was uncanny--enough to give one the creeps. If Gray
were tied hand and foot and thrown into a river, somebody would drag
him out--with his pockets full of fish! And to be marooned for days in
the midst of a blazing lake--Damnation! Well, luck like that was bound
to change. It had changed. The note of assurance in this self-edited
story was patently counterfeit, or so Henry told himself, for surely
the fellow must know by this time that his race was run. Probably this
was a desperate effort to secure further backing. If so, it would fail.

Henry believed that he had weakened his enemy's support so completely
that he would fall of his own weight; he considered it, in fact, about
the cleverest move he had ever made to dispose of a block of bank stock
in such a way as not only to tide him over his own difficulties, but
also to make allies of Gray's associates--the very men who had been
fighting him. Those men were through with the scoundrel now, and who
else could he appeal to, once they abandoned him? Nobody. No, the ice
had been thin, at times--Henry had felt it bending under him--but he
was safe at last. The crossing had been made.

So much accomplished; now that the fellow was down and could no longer
fight back, it was time to see