face, an
expression on his own that showed the younger man how keenly he had
taken the refusal.

"I know I'm old-fashioned, Phil--I have a right to be. I come of
old-fashioned stock--so do you. All that you tell me of your father
convinces me that he was an upright man. He was severe at times, and
dominating, but he was honest. Your mother's purity and goodness shine
out here," and he pointed to the portrait. "This is your heritage, and
your only heritage--something that millions of money cannot buy, and
which you cannot sell, no matter what price is paid you for it. You,
their son"--Gregg stopped and hesitated, the words seemed to clog in
his throat--"must not--_shall not_!" (the way was clear now) "commit a
crime which would bring a blush to their cheeks if they were alive
to-day. Don't, I beseech you, my boy, lend your young manhood to this
swindle. It is infamous, it is damnable. It shall not--_cannot_ be.
You love me too well to refuse; promise me you will stop this whole
business."

Colton was astounded. In all his intercourse with Gregg he had never
seen him moved like this. He knew what had caused it. Gregg's
sedentary life, his being so much away from the business side of
things had warped his judgment and upset his reasoning powers. Not to
make commissions on a loan that the first mining expert in the country
had declared good, and which the biggest trust company in the Street
and two outside banks were willing to underwrite! Gregg was crazy!
This came of talking business to such a man. He should have confined
himself to more restful topics--topics which he really loved best.
After all, it was his fault, not Adam's.

[Illustration: "Promise me that you will stop the whole business."]

"All right, old fellow; don't let us talk any more about it," he said
in the tone he would have used to pacify a woman who had lost her
temper. "Some other time when----"

Adam resumed his walk without listening further. He saw how futile had
been his appeal and the thought alarmed him all the more.

"Put down your hat, Phil." The calmness of his voice was singularly in
contrast to the tone of the outburst. "Take your seat again. Wait
until I lock the door. I have something to say to you and we must not
be interrupted."

He turned the key, drew the heavy curtains together, and dragging his
chair opposite Phil's so that he could look squarely in his eyes, sat
down in front of him.

"My son," he began, "I am going to te