he was on his way to seek a home in a tenement for his beautiful
child, so maddened him that he drove recklessly to an adjacent
shed, which shielded him from observation, snatched out his fatal
syringe, and in a moment the poison was diffusing itself through
all his system. He had returned again before Roger, who had been
detained some moments, reappeared, but now his heavy eyes were
bright and fiery, and his tongue unloosed.

"Did you see that young man to whom I refused to speak?" he asked
as they drove away.

"Yes."

"Well, he's a white-livered scoundrel. He's a type of your
Northern gentlemen. A Southern man would starve rather than act so
pusillanimously. Of course I'm not going to talk of family secrets,
or say anything not befitting a high-toned gentleman, but I taught
that snob how a man of honor regards his cowardice and cold-bloodedness.
He was one of our fair-weather friends, who promptly disappeared
when the sky clouded. Here he is, dawdling around a high-priced
hotel, while I'm on my way to seek rooms in a tenement for those
to whom he is not worthy to speak; but the time shall come, and
speedily, too, when even on the base plane of money--the sole claim
of his proud family for consideration--we shall meet him and scorn
him as his superiors. I have plans, business prospects--"and he
launched forth into such a vague, wild statement of his projects
that Eoger looked at him in silent amazement, half doubting his
sanity.

In his haste Mr. Jocelyn had not carefully gauged his syringe, and