lauded, nettled them. By
some obscure process of reasoning it convicted him of conceit, a mean
and stingy conceit, unpardonable even among those to whom self-esteem
was as natural as the drawing of breath. Eternal poseurs themselves,
they adjudged his modesty a pose, yet somehow could not forgive it.
And his decency bred hatred in a few.

The growth of antagonism was too slow, too intricate, to be retraced
here. It is effect and not cause with which we are concerned. And one
instance alone will serve to show, how finally was wrecked that
popularity which had been so swiftly created. One interview between
Perry and Devereau explains it well.

The reply which Perry Blair made to the invitation sent him several
months after his arrival in Manhattan, by Pig-iron Dunham, is still
verbal currency upon the Tenderloin. Conversational small change, to
be sure, but still in circulation.

Dunham had bidden him to one of his famous little dinners. Infamous?
Well, it's all in the point of view. Some of them have been spoken of
warmly by those who have attended, though guardedly.

Perry Blair was more outspoken.

"Tell Dunham," he directed the messenger who had brought the invitation
quite privately, "tell Dunham that if it had to be one or the other I'd
chose to dine decently with a four-footed hog, in a trough."

The messenger, one of many who believed that Pig-iron Dunham, having
amassed millions in the industry which had given him his name, was a
philanthropist in spending it so liberally, thought to have heard
wrong. So Perry repeated again for him the message with something
added for emphasis. This time he believed his ears and bore it as
nearly intact as possible to Dunham. And when, hours later it came
word for word to Devereau, the latter turned pale. For many days he
had been hearing rumors disturbing to his ideas of managerial
authority, but had laid them to jealousy. He believed them now. He
sought out Blair.

"Listen!" He plunged strongly in. He thought he knew when to tread
softly, when to brow-beat. "Listen, kid! You've pulled a boner.
A'course I shoulda wised you up earlier about Dunham but I thought you
were on. I thought everybody was. But you can't treat Pig-iron this
way. Why--why--why he--he's--"

What he had wanted to say was that Dunham, Benevolent Patron of the
Street, was not accustomed to having his favors rebuffed so crudely,
but he couldn't quite manage it. So he fell back