e what connection it might have had, but in vain. And
with his departure from the train, new thoughts, new problems, arose to
take the place of memories. His purposes now were of the future, not
of the past.

And naturally, he turned first to the office of his father's
attorney,--the bleak place where he had conferred so many times in the
black days. Old Judge Mason, accustomed to seeing Barry in time of
stress, tried his best to be jovial.

"Well, boy, what is it this time?"

"Money." Houston came directly to the point. "I've come back to
Boston to find out if any one will trust me."

"With or without security."

"With it--the best in the world." Then he brought forward a copy of
the contract. Mason studied it at length, then, with a slow gesture,
raised his glasses to a resting place on his forehead.

"I--I don't know, boy," he said at last. "It's a rather hard problem
to crack. I wish there was some one in the family we could go to for
the money."

"But there isn't."

"No. Your uncle Walt might have it. But I'm afraid that he wouldn't
feel like lending it to you. He still believes--well, you know how
fathers are about their boys. He's forgotten most of Tom's bad points
by now."

"We'll drop him from the list. How about the bankers."

"We'll have to see. I'm a little afraid there. I know you'll pardon
me for saying it, Barry, but they like to have a man come to them with
clean hands. Not that you haven't got them," he interjected,
"but--well, you know bankers. What's the money for; running expenses?"

"No. Machinery. The other mill burned down, you know--and as usual,
without insurance. We have a makeshift thing set up there now--but
it's nothing to what will be needed. I've got to have a good,
smooth-working plant--otherwise I won't be able to live up to
specifications."

"You're not," and the old lawyer smiled quizzically, "going to favor
your dearly beloved friend with the order, are you?"

"Who?"

"Worthington."

"The district attorney?"

"That was. Plutocrat now, and member of society, you know. He came
into his father's money, just after he went out of office, and bought
into the East Coast Machinery Company when it was on its last legs.
His money was like new blood. They've got a good big plant. He's
president," again the smile, "and I know he'd be glad to have your
order."

Houston continued the sarcasm.

"I'd be overjoyed to give it to him. In fact, I think