rs, "courage to break away from the routine I've been obliged to
follow."

Fairfax saw before him a spare man of about forty years of age. The thin
hair, early grey, came meekly around the temples of a finely made and
serious brow, but the features of Rainsford's face were delicate, the
skin was drawn tightly over the high cheek-bones. There was an extreme
melancholy in his expression; when defeat had begun to write its lines
upon his face, over the humiliating stain, Resignation had laid a hand.

"Well, I'll spare you wondering about me, Fairfax," the agent said; "I
am just a plain fellow, that's all, and for that reason, when I saw that
one of the hands on my pay-roll was clearly a gentleman, and a very
young one too, it interested me, and since I have been to Kenny's"--he
hesitated a little--"since I have heard something about you from that
good soul, why, I am more than interested, I am determined!"

Fairfax, his head thrown back, smoked thoughtfully, and Rainsford noted
the youthfulness of the line of his neck and face, the high idealism of
the brow, the beautiful mouth, the breeding and the sensitiveness there.

"Why, it's a crime, that's what it is. You are young, you're a boy.
Thank God for it, it is not too late. Would you care to tell me what
brought you here like this? I won't say what misfortune brought you
here, Fairfax,"--he put his nervous hand to his lips--"but what folly on
your part."

Rainsford took for granted the ordinary reasons for hard luck and the
harvest of wild oats.

Fairfax said, "I have no people, Rainsford; they are all dead."

"But you have influential friends?"

"No," said Fairfax, "not one."

"You have extraordinary talent, Fairfax."

The young man started. "But what makes you think that?"

"Falutini told me."

Fairfax laughed harshly. "Poor Tito. He's a judge, I daresay." His face
clouded, grew quite stern before Rainsford's intent eyes. "Yes," he said
slowly, "I think I have talent; I think I must have a lot somewhere, but
I have got a mighty dangerous Pride and it has driven me to a sort of
revenge on Fate, an arrogant showing of my disdain--God knows of what
and of whom!" More quietly he said: "Whilst my mother lived I could not
beg, Rainsford, I couldn't starve, I couldn't scratch and crawl and live
as a starving artist must when he is making his way. I wanted to make a
living first, and I was too proud to take the thorny way an artist
must."

Fairfax got up, put hi