and a piece of tapestry equally difficult of purchase. The study itself
was no mere lounging place of a man of pleasure, but sober and formidable
books were scattered through the cases: "Turner's Evolution of the
Railroad," "Graham's Practical Forestry," "Eldridge's Finance"; while
whole shelves of modern husbandry proclaimed that Mr. Humphrey Crewe was
no amateur farmer. There was likewise a shelf devoted to road building,
several to knotty-looking pamphlets, and half a wall of neatly labelled
pigeonholes. For decoration, there was an oar garnished with a ribbon,
and several groups of college undergraduates, mostly either in puffed
ties or scanty attire, and always prominent in these groups, and always
unmistakable, was Mr. Humphrey Crewe himself.

Mr. Crewe was silent awhile, that this formidable array of things might
make the proper impression upon his visitor.

"It was lucky you came to-day, Vane," he said at length. "I am due in New
York to-morrow for a directors' meeting, and I have a conference in
Chicago with a board of trustees of which I am a member on the third.
Looking at my array of pamphlets, eh? I've been years in collecting
them,--ever since I left college. Those on railroads ought especially to
interest you--I'm somewhat of a railroad man myself."

"I didn't know that," said Austen.

"Had two or three blocks of stock in subsidiary lines that had to be
looked after. It was a nuisance at first," said Mr. Crewe, "but I didn't
shirk it. I made up my mind I'd get to the bottom of the railroad
problem, and I did. It's no use doing a thing at all unless you do it
well." Mr. Crewe, his hands still in his pockets, faced Austen smilingly.
"Now I'll bet you didn't know I was a railroad man until you came in