esult of an unfortunate accident," said Austen; "Mr. Hammer died."

"And on the occasion when you did me the honour to call on me," said
Mr. Flint, "if I remember rightly, you expressed some rather radical
views--for the son of Hilary Vane."

"For the son of Hilary Vane," Austen agreed, with a smile.

Mr. Flint ignored the implication in the repetition.

"Thinking as mach as I do of Mr. Vane, I confess that your views at that
time rather disturbed me. It is a matter of relief to learn that you
have refused to lend yourself to the schemes of men like our neighbour,
Mr. Humphrey Crewe, of Leith."

"Honesty compels me to admit," answered Austen, "that I did not refrain
on Mr. Crewe's account."

"Although," said Mr. Flint, drumming on the table, "there was some talk
that you were to be brought forward as a dark horse in the convention,
and as a candidate unfriendly to the interests of the Northeastern
Railroads, I am glad you did not consent to be put in any such position.
I perceive that a young man of your ability and--popularity, a Vane of
Camden Street, must inevitably become a force in this State. And as a
force, you must retain the conservatism of the Vanes--the traditional
conservatism of the State. The Northeastern Railroads will continue to
be a very large factor in the life of the people after you and I
are gone, Mr. Vane. You will have to live, as it were, with that
corporation, and help to preserve it. We shall have to work together,
perhaps, to that end--who can say? I repeat, I am glad that your
good sense led you to refrain from coming as a candidate before that
Convention. There is time enough in the future, and you could not have
been nominated."

"On the contrary," answered Austen, quietly, "I could have been
nominated."

Mr. Flint smiled knowingly--but with an effort. What a relief it would
have been to him to charge horse and foot, to forget that he was a
railroad president dealing with a potential power.

"Do you honestly believe that?" he asked.

"I am not accustomed to dissemble my beliefs," said Austen, gravely.
"The fact that my father had faith enough in me to count with certainty
on my refusal to go before the convention enabled him to win the
nomination for the candidate of your railroads."

Mr. Flint continued to smile, but into his eyes had crept a gleam of
anger.

"It is easy to say such things--after the convention," he remarked.

"And it would have been impossible to say thei