ferent forms: sometimes he saw
himself doing desperate things, setting fire to a house that he knew and
hated, striking a blow in the dark for which nobody thanked him, but the
issue was always the same, and the dream never left him. He was to find
Green River a new master. He was to save the town. That was his dream.
It had never left him till now.

He was only a lean, tense boy, crouched over a battered desk and staring
out of the window at a country street with absent, beautiful eyes, but
he was living through a tragic hour; the terrible hour that poets and
dreamers know when they lose hold upon their dreams. Measured by
minutes, this hour was not long. Neil passed a hand across his forehead
and sat up, reaching for his cap in a dazed way, for he was not to be
permitted to hide longer from his trouble here. The plump and personable
figure of Mr. Theodore Burr was crossing the square and disappearing
into the door below. His unhurried step climbed the stairs. Neil opened
the door to him.

"Hello, stranger. Why aren't you at Madison?" Neil said.

"I didn't go," said Mr. Burr lucidly. "Where are you going? I don't want
to drive you away from here."

"Oh, just out. I was going anyway."

"You don't invite me. I don't blame you. I'm poor company, and I've got
business to attend to here."

"No!"

"Why shouldn't I have business here?" snapped Mr. Burr.

"You should, you should, Theodore. Say"--the question had been troubling
Neil subconsciously all the time he sat at the desk--"what's wrong with
that lower drawer? I can't open it."

"It's locked."

"What for?"

"That," said Mr. Burr with dignity, "is my private drawer--for private
papers."

"Papers!" Mr. Burr's private papers were known to consist chiefly of a
file of receipted bills and a larger file of unreceipted bills, both
kept with his usual fastidious neatness. "What papers?"

"That's my business. I've got some rights here, if I am a figurehead.
I've got some privileges."

"Sure. Don't you feel right to-day, Theodore?"

"That," said Mr. Burr, "is my business, too."

Neil stared at his friend. Mr. Burr was faultlessly groomed, as always,
his tie was of the vivid and unique blue that he affected so often, and
a very recent close shave had acted upon him as usual, giving him a pink
and new-born appearance, but his eyes looked old and tired, as if he had
not slept for weeks and had no immediate prospect of sleeping, and there
were lines of strain abo