extinction of his name."

He arose with a new ease, and with a vigor that had long been absent
from his step, paced up and down the room. "You will not find it a
sacrifice, my son; it will become a fascination. It is not the love of
money, but the consciousness of force. The lion enjoys his own
strength, but the hare is frightened at his own weakness and runs when
no danger is near. Small tradesmen may be ignorant, but a large
merchant must be wise, for his wisdom has made him large. Trade is the
realization of logic, and success is the fruit of philosophy. People
wonder at the achievements of a man whom they take to be ignorant; but
that man has a secret intelligence somewhere; and if they could
discover it they would imitate him. Don't you permit yourself to feel
that any mental force is too high for business. The statesman is but
a business man. Behind the great general is the nation's backbone, and
that backbone is a financier. Let me see, what time is it?" He looked
at his watch. "Come, we will all go to the theater."

Witherspoon drove Henry to the railway station the next evening, and
during the drive he talked almost ceaselessly. He complimented Henry
upon the wise slowness with which he had made up his mind; there was
always too much of impulse in a quick decision. He pointed his whip at
a house and said: "A lonely old man lives there; he has built up a
fortune, but his name will be buried with him." He spoke of his
religious views. There must be a hereafter, but in the future state
strength must rule; it was the order of the universe, the will of
nature, the decree of eternity. He talked of the books that he had
read, and then he turned to business. In a commercial transaction
there must be no sentiment; financial credit must be guarded as a
sacred honor. Every debt must be paid; every cent due must be
extracted. It might cause distress, but distress was an inheritance of
life.

To this talk the young man listened vaguely; he said neither yes nor
no, and his silence was taken for close attention.

When they arrived at the station, Witherspoon got out of the buggy and
with Henry walked up and down the concrete floor along the iron fence.
It was here that the stranger had wonderingly gazed at the crowd as he
held up young Henry's chain.

"Are you going through New Orleans?"

"Yes; will be there one day."

"You are pretty well acquainted in that town, I suppose."

"With the streets," Henry answered.