im a single open glance
of fire from hectic eyes. For that instant, the frailer buck
trumpeted challenge. Corliss--broad-shouldered, supple of waist,
graceful and strong--smiled down negligently; yet the very air
between the two men seemed charged with an invisible explosive.
Ray laughed quickly, as in undisturbed good nature; then,
flourishing his stick, turned toward the door.

"Oh, no, it isn't clairvoyance--no more than when I told you that
your only real interest is women." He paused, his hand upon the
door-knob. "I'm a quaint mixture, however: perhaps I should be
handled with care."

"Very good of you," laughed Corliss--"this warning. The afternoon
I had the pleasure of meeting you I think I remember your implying
that you were a mere marionette."

"A haggard harlequin!" snapped Vilas, waving his hand to a mirror
across the room. "Don't I look it?" And the phrase fitted him with
tragic accuracy. "You see? What a merry wedding-guest I'll be! I
invite you to join me on the nuptial eve."

"Thanks. Who's getting married: when the nuptial eve?"

Ray opened the door, and, turning, rolled his eyes fantastically.
"Haven't you heard?" he cried. "When Hecate marries John
Barleycorn!" He bowed low. "Mr. Midas, adieu."

Corliss stood in the doorway and watched him walk down the long
hall to the elevator. There, Ray turned and waved his hand, the
other responding with gayety which was not assumed: Vilas might be
insane, or drunk, or both, but the signature upon his cheque was
unassailable.

Corliss closed the door and began to pace his apartment
thoughtfully. His expression manifested a peculiar phenomenon. In
company, or upon the street, or when he talked with men, the open
look and frank eyes of this stalwart young man were disarming and
his most winning assets. But now, as he paced alone in his
apartment, now that he was not upon exhibition, now when there was
no eye to behold him, and there was no reason to dissimulate or
veil a single thought or feeling, his look was anything but open;
the last trace of frankness disappeared; the muscles at mouth and
eyes shifted; lines and planes intermingled and altered subtly;
there was a moment of misty transformation--and the face of
another man emerged. It was the face of a man uninstructed in
mercy; it was a shrewd and planning face: alert, resourceful,
elaborately perceptive, and flawlessly hard. But, beyond all, it
was the face of a man perpetually on guard.

He had