tle. He believed the man was capable
of forgery; indeed, he suddenly remembered that in the old days his
son had spoken innocently, but admiringly, of Van Loo's wonderful
chirographical powers and his faculty of imitating the writings of
others, and how he had even offered to teach him. A new and exasperating
thought came into his feverish consciousness. What if Van Loo, in
teaching the boy, had even made use of him as an innocent accomplice to
cover up his own tricks! The suggestion was no question of moral ethics
to Steptoe, nor of his son's possible contamination, although since the
night of the big strike he had held different views; it was simply a
fierce, selfish jealousy that ANOTHER might have profited by the lad's
helplessness and inexperience. He had been tormented by this jealousy
before in his son's liking for Van Loo. He had at first encouraged his
admiration and imitative regard for this smooth swindler's graces and
accomplishments, which, though he scorned them himself, he was, after
the common parental infatuation, willing that the boy should profit by.
Incapable, through his own consciousness, of distinguishing between Van
Loo's superficial polish and the true breeding of a gentleman, he
had only looked upon it as an equipment for his son which might be
serviceable to himself. He had told his wife the truth when he informed
her of Van Loo's fears of being reminded of their former intimacy; but
he had not told her how its discontinuance after they had left Heavy
Tree Hill had affected her son, and how he still cherished his old
admiration for that specious rascal. Nor had he told her how this had
stung him, through his own selfish greed of the boy's affection. Yet now
that it was possible that she had met Van Loo that evening, she might
have become aware of Van Loo's power over her child. How she would
exult, for all her pretended hatred of Van Loo! How, perhaps, they had
plotted together! How Van Loo might have become aware of the place where
his son was kept, and have been bribed by the mother to tell her! He
stopped in a whirl of giddy fancies. His strong common sense in all
other things had been hitherto proof against such idle dreams or
suggestions; but the very strength of his parental love and jealousy had
awakened in him at last the terrors of imagination.

His first impulse had been to seek his wife, regardless of discovery or
consequences, at Hymettus, where she had said she was going. It was on