ands. There was a look of melancholy in his eyes, in spite of
his smile of greeting.

"Anything wrong with you?" asked Justin, instinctively noticing the
look rather than the smile.

"No," said Cater. He hooked his legs under his chair, and leaned back,
the light from the high unshaded window striking full on his lean
yellow countenance. "No, there's nothing wrong. Got some things off my
mind, things that have been bothering me for a long time, and I reckon
I don't feel quite easy without 'em."

"I think you're very lucky," said Justin. The light from the high
window fell on his face, too--on his brown hair, turning a little gray
at the temples, on the set lines of his face, in which his eyes, keen
and blue, looked intently at his friend. He was well dressed; the foot
that was crossed over his knee was excellently shod.

Cater shifted a little in his seat. "Well, I don't know. My experience
is some different from the usual run, I reckon. I never had any big
streak of luck that it didn't get back at me afterwards. There was my
marriage--I know it ain't the thing to talk about your marriage, but
you do sometimes. My wife's a fine woman,--yes, sir, I was mighty
lucky to get her,--but I didn't know how to live up to her family.
It's been that-a-way all my life. Sure's I get to ringin' the bells,
the floorin' caves in under me."

"We'll see that the flooring holds, now that you're coming in with
us," said Justin good-naturedly. "I've got some propositions to put up
to you to-day."

Cater shook his head. "There's no use of your putting up any
propositions. I've been drawin' on my well of thought so hard lately
that I reckon you could hear the pumps workin' plumb across the
street. I've been cipherin' down to the fact that I can't go it alone,
any more'n you,--there we agree; hold on, now!--but I can't combine."

"You can't!" cried Justin, with unusual violence. "Why not?"

"Well, you know my feelin's about trusts, and--I like you, Mr.
Alexander, you know that, mighty well, but I balk at your backin'. I
don't believe in it. It'll fail when you count on it most. It'll cramp
on you merciless if you come short of its expectations. Leverich isn't
so bad, but Martin cramps a hold of him, and I can't stand Martin
havin' a finger in any concern _I_ have a hold of."

"He's clever enough to make what he touches pay," said Justin.

Cater's eyebrows contracted. "You say he's clever; because he's
tricky--because he's sharp. He