een in Italy, of course. I believe I
could go to any of those countries and place it to advantage."

Lapham had listened with a trace of persuasion in his face, but now he
shook his head.

"It's placing itself as fast as there's any call for it. It wouldn't
pay us to send anybody out to look after it. Your salary and expenses
would eat up about all we should make on it."

"Yes," returned the young man intrepidly, "if you had to pay me any
salary and expenses."

"You don't propose to work for nothing?"

"I propose to work for a commission." The Colonel was beginning to
shake his head again, but Corey hurried on. "I haven't come to you
without making some inquiries about the paint, and I know how it stands
with those who know best. I believe in it."

Lapham lifted his head and looked at the young man, deeply moved.

"It's the best paint in God's universe," he said with the solemnity of
prayer.

"It's the best in the market," said Corey; and he repeated, "I believe
in it."

"You believe in it," began the Colonel, and then he stopped. If there
had really been any purchasing power in money, a year's income would
have bought Mrs. Lapham's instant presence. He warmed and softened to
the young man in every way, not only because he must do so to any one
who believed in his paint, but because he had done this innocent person
the wrong of listening to a defamation of his instinct and good sense,
and had been willing to see him suffer for a purely supposititious
offence.

Corey rose.

"You mustn't let me outstay my twenty minutes," he said, taking out his
watch. "I don't expect you to give a decided answer on the spot. All
that I ask is that you'll consider my proposition."

"Don't hurry," said Lapham. "Sit still! I want to tell you about this
paint," he added, in a voice husky with the feeling that his hearer
could not divine. "I want to tell you ALL about it."

"I could walk with you to the boat," suggested the young man.

"Never mind the boat! I can take the next one. Look here!" The Colonel
pulled open a drawer, as Corey sat down again, and took out a
photograph of the locality of the mine. "Here's where we get it. This
photograph don't half do the place justice," he said, as if the
imperfect art had slighted the features of a beloved face. "It's one
of the sightliest places in the country, and here's the very spot "--he
covered it with his huge forefinger--"where my father found that paint,
mo