huckled and rubbed together his bony hands, cracking the
joints.

"Yas, my nightie. Never tole you boys about that, did I? Wal, about a
month before Lily an' me was fixin' up to get merried, she made me a
nightie. It was mos' too dressy fer a lady to wear, let alone a
critter like me who'd allus slep' in his pants an' day shirt. 'Twas of
fine linen, pleated, and fixed with ribands, yaller riband, I chose
the colour. Lily was kinder stuck on pale blue, but I liked yaller
best. Lily knew what I' do with that nightie, an' I done it. I put it
away in the tissoo paper 'twas wrapped in, an' I hev it still. I've got
more solid satisfaction out of lookin' at it than I ever hev out o' my
bank book. An," he concluded warmly, "Lily's goin' ter feel jest that
way about these yere sollytaires."

What followed immediately afterwards is county history. Uncle Jap
decided to borrow money to develop his bonanza. The Autocrat, with
tentacles stretching to the uttermost ends of the earth, may--I dare
not affirm that he did--have issued instructions that such money as
Jaspar Panel asked for was to be paid. Jaspar Panel asked for a good
deal, and got it. He sunk more wells and capped them; he built
reservoirs, he laid down pipe line. The day of triumph dawned when an
English company offered to take all the oil Uncle Jap could supply,
provided it were delivered free on board their vessels. Then came the
crushing blow that the railroad would not transport Mr. Panel's
petroleum. If they did--this was not the reason given by the shipping
agents--the Autocrat might be _displeased_.

Meantime the banks politely requested Jaspar Panel to meet his
obligations.

Hitherto, Uncle Jap had been a man of simple and primitive beliefs. He
had held, for instance, that a beneficent Providence will uphold Right
against Might; he had pinned his faith to the flag under which he
fought and bled when a boy; he had told his Lily (who believed him)
that American citizenship is a greater thing than a Roman's in Rome's
palmiest day: a phrase taken whole from the mouth of a Fourth of July
orator. Last of all, he had believed devoutly in his own strong hands
and will, the partnership of mind and muscle which confronts seemingly
insuperable obstacles confident that it can destroy them.

And now, hour by hour, day by day, conviction settled upon his soul
that in this world one only reigned supreme: the Autocrat of Oil,
whose High Priest was Nathaniel Leveson. After