ssing and choked down a little breakfast. As he
advanced toward the front door the servant there coughed uneasily and
said: "Beg pardon, sir, but I fear you won't be able to get out."

"What's the matter?" he demanded, his brows contracting and his lips
beginning to slide back in a snarl--it promised to be a sad morning for
human curs of all kinds who did not scurry out of the lion's way.

"The crowd, sir," said the servant. And he drew aside the curtain
across the glass in one of the inside pair of great double doors of the
palace entrance. "It's quite safe to look, sir. They can't see
through the outside doors as far as this."

Dumont peered through the bronze fretwork. A closely packed mass of
people was choking the sidewalk and street--his brougham was like an
island in a troubled lake. He saw several policemen--they were trying
to move the crowd on, but not trying sincerely. He saw three huge
cameras, their operators under the black cloths, their lenses pointed
at the door--waiting for him to appear. For the first time in his life
he completely lost his nerve. Not only publicity, the paper--a
lifeless sheet of print; but also publicity, the public--with living
eyes to peer and living voices to jeer. He looked helplessly,
appealingly at the "cur" he had itched to kick the moment before.

"What the devil shall I do?" he asked in a voice without a trace of
courage.

"I don't know, sir," replied the servant. "The basement door wouldn't
help very much, would it?"

The basement door was in front also. "Idiot! Is there no way out at
the rear?" he asked.

"Only over the fences, sir," said the servant, perfectly
matter-of-fact. Having no imagination, his mind made no picture of the
great captain of industry scrambling over back fences like a stray cat
flying from a brick.

Dumont turned back and into his first-floor sitting-room. He unlocked
his stand of brandy bottles, poured out an enormous drink and gulped it
down. His stomach reeled, then his head. He went to the window and
looked out--there must have been five hundred people in the street, and
vehicles were making their way slowly and with difficulty, drivers
gaping at the house and joking with the crowd; newsboys, bent sidewise
to balance their huge bundles of papers, were darting in and out, and
even through the thick plate glass he could hear: "All about
Millionaire Dumont's disgrace!"

He went through to a rear window. No, there was a