all
the facts of the case by wireless, and took a grip of the situation. I
sized up the doctors here as a couple of well-meaning fools. I wired to
Chicago for a man who's made a speciality of opsonic treatment for
pneumonia. His own invention--something the other doctors sneer at. I
had him packed from Chicago to Golden Beach by special train, with full
authority to boss the case.... Yes, it's money that saved my boy. Money,
Dean, holds the power of life and death. Money is the mightiest thing in
this world. I expect you've come to realise that lately, now you've left
off being a clerk."

Dean gulped and answered: "That's what I've come to speak to you about,
sir."

The shipowner shot a swift glance at him. "Come to my office," he said,
and led the way.

When he had the young fellow seated with the light full on him, Larssen
asked coldly: "What's your song? Looking for a raise already?"

"No, it's not that. I don't feel I can carry out this work."

"What work?"

"Your work."

"Talk it longer."

"It's like this, sir. When I was in Winnipeg, I went one night to a
music-hall, and on my way home I went by chance into a chapel meeting."

"Music-hall or chapel--it's all one to me, so long as you're not a
drinker. You're free to spend your evenings as you like, provided it
doesn't interfere with your work."

"There was a preacher there, a Mr Enoch Way, who impressed me very
strongly, sir. So much so that I had to leave the meeting. When I got
back to my hotel, I found a wire from you telling me to travel to New
York. I caught the morning train, and on the train I met Mr Way again.
We were on the observation platform together when the railway-car went
over the bridge. He died not a yard away from me, down in the river! He
was a fine man--a great man! and if I could die like he died, with a
prayer on his lips for someone who was only a stranger----" Dean choked
and stopped.

Presently he resumed: "And when I lay in hospital at Fort William, I
thought things over and over. I began to see clearly that I ought never
to have taken on the work you asked me to do."

"Why not?"

"It's not right, sir! You know what you asked me to do wasn't right!
It's fraud!" The words came clear and strong now.

If Larssen had been a man of ordinary passions, he would have kicked
Dean out of the door and told him to go to the devil. But the shipowner
had not reached his present power by giving way to ordinary feelings.

He answer