the exercise and the reward of intelligence. His work, really light at
first, seemed stupendous to him because he did not understand it. As
his understanding grew, he was given heavier work, and behold! it seemed
more light. He discovered that great books had been written upon every
phase of bringing forth metal from the great mother earth; and he
snatched from long days of toil time for more toil, and burned his lamp
into the night, so that he might add theory to practice.

I should like to say that David's swift upward career owed thanks
entirely to his own good habits, newly discovered gifts for mining
engineering, and industry; but a strict regard for the truth prevents.
Upon his own resources and talents he must have succeeded in the end;
but his success was the swifter for the interest, and presently
affection, that Uriah Grey himself contributed toward it. In short,
David's chances came to him as soon as he was strong enough to handle
them, and were even created on purpose for him; whereas, if he had had
no one behind him, he must have had to wait interminably for them. But
the main point, of course, is that, as soon as he began to understand
what was required of him, he began to make good.

His field work ended about the time that Miss Violet Grey returned from
Europe "completely finished and done up," as she put it herself, and he
became a fixture of growing importance in Mr. Grey's main offices in
Denver and a thrill in Denver society. His baby _w_'s instead of rolling
_r_'s thrilled the ladies; his good habits coupled with his manliness
and success thrilled the men.

"He doesn't drink," said one.

"He doesn't smoke," said another.

"He doesn't bet," said a third.

"He can look the saints in the face," said a fourth; and a fifth,
looking up, thumped upon a bell that would summon a waiter, and with
emphasis said:

"And we _like_ to have him around!"

Among the youngest and most enthusiastic men it even became the habit to
copy David in certain things. He was responsible for a small wave of
reform in Denver, as he had once been in Aiken; but for the opposite
cause. Little dialogues like the following might frequently be heard in
the clubs:

"Have a drink, Billy?"

"Thanks; I don't drink."

"Cigar, Sam?"

"Thanks (with a moan); don't smoke."

"Betcherfivedollars, Ned."

"Sorry, old man; I don't bet."

Or, in a lowered voice:

"Say, let's drop round to----"

"I've (chillingly) cut out all