friends think him just fit for a bomb.

The great problem of his life was how to hold together a body of
liberals so that they could be effective. This problem was going to be
immensely complicated by the marriage of his brother with the daughter
of a conspicuous capitalist like William Cord.

He pushed the buzzer on his desk and wrote out the following telegram:

David Moreton, Care William Cord, Newport, R.I.

Am taking boat Newport to-night. Meet me.

Ben.

No one answered his buzzer, but presently a boy came in collecting
copy, and Moreton said to him:

"Here, get this sent, and ask Klein to come here. He's in the
composing room."

And presently Mr. Klein entered, in the characteristic dress of the
newspaper man--namely, shirt sleeves and a green shade over his eyes.

"Look here, Ben!" he exclaimed in some excitement. "Here's a
thousand-dollar check just come in for the strike fund. How's that for
the second day?"

"Good enough," said Ben, who would ordinarily have put in a good hour
rejoicing over such unexpected good fortune, but whose mind was now