displeased beyond measure with the attitude assumed by Trueman.

"Well, sir!" he says, "you should know there is a difference between
Harvey Trueman's fox terrier, so long as you are general counsel for the
Paradise Coal Company, and a man who marches along the highway with a
revolver in one hand and a torch in the other, his cowardly heart filled
with murder and arson! I am greatly disappointed with your views.
Perhaps it were better that I place the injunction proceedings in other
hands!"

A sharp retort is on Trueman's lips, words not sarcastic, but stinging
in their earnest truthfulness, and wise beyond the years of the man
about to utter them. Each man has discovered that which is repugnant to
him in the other--that which has remained hidden through years of
friendship.

The door of the office is unceremoniously opened, and a girlish voice
says:

"Ah, father--I thought you must be keeping Mr. Trueman. Don't you
remember you promised me at breakfast you would not? Our ride was fixed
for three o'clock. It is now nearly four. Why, you both look positively
serious!"

Ethel Purdy, gowned in a black riding habit which displays a dainty,
enamelled bootleg, and wearing a gray felt hat of the rough rider type,
gracefully poised on one side of her head, smiles incredulously as she
stands, one hand on the knob, looking in through the door at the two
men.