it. On the ground all the time. Save a
soul or two if you can, not neglecting the bodies--and be glad. Most of
us cannot save our own. Think of the little bug who makes coral islands.
Be a good little bug. Be an earnest, God-fearing bug. Help your fellow
bugs along the narrow way. But don't forget--you are only a
bug--yes--only a bug--oh, so trifling!"

It was long after dark when they parted.

"It is a field worth tilling," said the older man as they shook hands.
"Your hand is on the plough. Keep your eyes ahead."

"I feel an inspiration," cried Imrie.

"Ho--yes," said Weis dryly. "But that will pass. Then it will be work.
But I will help you. I am older. I know--some things. You are a
Christian. I am only a Jew. Still--I can help. Ho--yes. I will be with
you when the inspiration goes. I am more useful than inspiration. Yes--I
will be with you--until you turn back. Then I will not be with you."

"I will not turn back," cried Imrie firmly.

"Yes--I have known young men before--who would not turn back. We shall
see--yes."

Imrie felt, as he walked toward the elevator, that there was nothing in
the world he would not suffer rather than have those snapping black eyes
look upon him with scorn, and hear that crisp voice, with its
indefinable accent, say--

"Ho--yes. I have seen--_another_ young man."

CHAPTER X

A BLUFF CALLED

Furniss, the oldest reporter on _The Dispatch_, in point of service, was
the one man with whom Good would have liked to part company. But he was
so distinctly capable, and there was such an utter absence of tangible
reason for his dismissal that he remained in his place, a constant,
though impalpable, source of irritation.

He was the only member of the staff whose distrust of Good's motives
remained fixed and unconcealed. It was perhaps not wholly his fault.
Temperamentally saturnine, years of service covering "police" had sapped
his faith in human nature. To him there was no such thing as altruism.
At best it was but a cloak to some subtle form of personal exploitation.
Just what Good's "game" was, he did not know. But that he had no
confidence in his superior was perfectly evident.

Good did everything he could to disarm this hostility, but the only
result was to confirm Furniss in the belief that an effort was being
made to blind him. Finally Good gave up the task, although he never
ceased to regret his subordinate's unconquerable attitude. He was so
completely without su