. I mean what I
say. I've got business to talk to you. And make up your mind that, for
once, you have got to take life seriously."

"What right have you to speak to me like this?" demanded the young man
with an attempt at dignity. Vandewaters laughed loudly.

"Right? Great Scott! The right of a man who thinks a damned sight more
of your reputation than you do yourself, and of your fortune than you
would ever have wits to do. I am the best friend you've got, and not the
less your friend because I feel like breaking your ribs. Now, enough of
that. This is what I have to say, Pride: to-night you and I are beggars.
You understand? Beggars. Out in the cold world, out in the street. Now,
what do you think of that?"

The shock to Mr. Pride was great. Mr. Vandewaters had exaggerated the
disaster; but he had done it with a purpose. The youth gasped "My God!"
and dropped his glass. Vandewaters picked it up, and regarded him a
moment in silence. Then he began to explain their financial position. He
did not explain the one bold stroke which he was playing to redeem their
fortunes: if possible. When he had finished the story, he said, "I guess
that's a bit more serious than the little affair in the library half an
hour ago?"

He rose to his feet. "Look here, Pride, be a man. You've never tried
it yet. Let me teach you how to face the world without a dollar; how to
make a fortune. Then, when you've made it, you'll get what you've never
had yet--the pleasure of spending money dug out of your own wits."

He carried conviction into a mind not yet all destroyed by effeminacy
and indulgence of the emotions. Something of the iron of his own brain
got into the brain of the young man, who came to his feet trembling a
little, and said: "I don't mind it so much, if you only stick to me,
Vandewaters."

A smile flickered about the corners of Vandewaters's mouth.

"Take a little more whiskey," he said; "then get into bed, and go to
sleep. No nonsense, remember; go to sleep. To-morrow morning we will
talk. And see here, my boy,"--he caught him by both arms and fastened
his eyes,--"you have had a lesson: learn it backwards. Good night."

Next morning Mr. Vandewaters was early in the grounds. He chatted with
the gardener, and discussed the merits of the horses with the groom,
apparently at peace with the world. Yet he was watching vigilantly
the carriage-drive from the public-road. Just before breakfast-time a
telegraph messenger appeared.