he strove to apply this fact to his
father's actions.

"He waited until after the convention."

"Exactly," said Mr. Flint, catching the implied accusation in Austen's
tone; "and needless to say, if I had been able to prevent his going, in
view of what happened on Monday night, I should have done so. As you
know, after his--accident, he went to the capital without informing any
one."

"As a matter of honour," said Austen.

Mr. Flint looked up from the papers, and regarded him narrowly, for the
tone in which this was spoken did not escape the president of the
Northeastern. He saw, in fact, that at the outset he had put a weapon
into Austen's hands. Hilary's resignation was a vindication of Austen's
attitude, an acknowledgment that the business and political practices of
his life had been wrong.

What Austen really felt, when he had grasped the significance of that
fact, was relief--gratitude. A wave of renewed affection for his father
swept over him, of affection and pity and admiration, and for the instant
he forgot Mr. Flint.

"As a matter of honour," Mr. Flint repeated. "Knowing he was ill, Mr.
Vane insisted upon going to that convention, even at the risk of his
life. It is a fitting close to a splendid career, and one that will not
soon be forgotten."

Austen merely looked at Mr. Flint, who may have found the glance a trifle
disconcerting, for he turned to the papers again.

"I repeat," he went on presently, "that this illness of Mr. Vane's is not
only a great loss to the Northeastern system, but a great blow to me
personally. I have been associated with him closely for more than a
quarter of a century, and I have never seen a lawyer of greater
integrity, clear-headedness, and sanity of view. He saw things as they
were, and he did as much to build up the business interests and the
prosperity of this State as any man I know of. He was true to his word,
and true to his friends."

Still Austen did not reply. He continued to look at Mr. Flint, and Mr.
Flint continued to check the papers only more slowly. He had nearly
finished the first box.

"A wave of political insanity, to put it mildly, seems to be sweeping
over this country," said the president of the Northeastern. "Men who
would paralyze and destroy the initiative of private enterprise, men who
themselves are ambitious, and either incapable or unsuccessful, have
sprung up; writers who have no conscience, whose one idea is to make
money out of a passing