e," he replied; "but there's no telling what I might do if
I were bantered. I suppose you ride and canoe?"

"Oh yes; and play tennis and golf, too."

"But where would a mere idler like me stay?"

"Oh, there are several good hotels. There's never any trouble about
that. I suppose you ride yourself?"

"After a fashion," replied Cowperwood, who was an expert.

Witness then the casual encounter on horseback, early one Sunday
morning in the painted hills of Wisconsin, of Frank Algernon Cowperwood
and Caroline Hand. A jaunty, racing canter, side by side; idle talk
concerning people, scenery, conveniences; his usual direct suggestions
and love-making, and then, subsequently--

The day of reckoning, if such it might be called, came later.

Caroline Hand was, perhaps, unduly reckless. She admired Cowperwood
greatly without really loving him. He found her interesting,
principally because she was young, debonair, sufficient--a new type.
They met in Chicago after a time instead of in Wisconsin, then in
Detroit (where she had friends), then in Rockford, where a sister had
gone to live. It was easy for him with his time and means. Finally,
Duane Kingsland, wholesale flour merchant, religious, moral,
conventional, who knew Cowperwood and his repute, encountered Mrs. Hand
and Cowperwood first near Oconomowoc one summer's day, and later in
Randolph Street, near Cowperwood's bachelor rooms. Being the man that
he was and knowing old Hand well, he thought it was his duty to ask the
latter if his wife knew Cowperwood intimately. There was an explosion
in the Hand home. Mrs. Hand, when confronted by her husband, denied,
of course, that there was anything wrong between her and Cowperwood.
Her elderly husband, from a certain telltale excitement and resentment
in her manner, did not believe this. He thought once of confronting
Cowperwood; but, being heavy and practical, he finally decided to sever
all business relationships with him and fight him in other ways. Mrs.
Hand was watched very closely, and a suborned maid discovered an old
note she had written to Cowperwood. An attempt to persuade her to
leave for Europe--as old Butler had once attempted to send Aileen years
before--raised a storm of protest, but she went. Hand, from being
neutral if not friendly, became quite the most dangerous and forceful
of all Cowperwood's Chicago enemies. He was a powerful man. His wrath
was boundless. He looked upon Cowperwood now as a