THE GLOWING METAL.

Oamaru Mail, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 10628, 3 December 1910, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE GLOWING METAL.

(By Roy Norton.)

In the gloomy, shadowy shed,- wliere the fumes crawled' upward and men with bared torsos worked, he was called the Baby Giant; Front the. sputtering furnace which opened; at intervals ,t» pour streams of molten metal into the ■ladlesj he and his fellows ..carried their shining, shimmering burdens to ths rows of moulds 'to dump them, and return :again. They : worked pantingly in the heat'and.spoke but little; and life was an unending round of' awakeniiig when the first whistle blew, trying to be on time at the gate,: and waiting- for the whistle which told tliem that the day's work was again done.

When dainty visitors, awed by the. 'sight of those great naked muscles, passed "through the shops with skirts gathered nervously around their legs, 1 i the Baby Giant exhibited neither surprise nor confusion at being pointed out with more or less open nudges as one of the curiosities of his craft. Once a woman, watching him walk springily with his.-end of the huge, glowing pot, an,d noting the erect poise of his head and the heavy mat of coarse, strong* hair, had said: "Tubal Cain, reincarnated." For a long time he had wondered whether it was intended for an insult, and also, vaguely if there was some other iron moulder by the name of Cain. Did the other work, as he worked, in a foundry and did he belong to tho union? What was that ■word "reincarnated"? George Cain had never heard it before and in time forgot it.

He was a child 1 of the foundries. He knew 110 other life. He could remember ! as far back as the orphan asylum, and also, dimly, the day when Casey, who once was a. foreman, had-adopted him to satisfy the hungry'liea-rt of the plain, fat, homely, and tender Bridget Casey, his wife. Casey was caught by the overturned ladle which tho crane had dropped in the steel works, when he, the Baby Giant, was but nine years old. There was 110 burial. Merely another coating of metal on the floor. His four years of schooling came to an end 011 that day, for he must work to aid the fat, homely, and tender-hearted fos-ter-mother. At twenty-four years of age he could not think of her—ten years dead—without a gush of hot tears, which, coupled with trembling lips, were identical' in appearance with, those ho shed wjien he fought.

Long jsince, men had learned to avoid him when tempest clouds lowered across his ingenuous face. Once, decoyed into a hall where workmen congregated, ho had come, into collision with a pugilist in a most sensational way. The Troy Tiger, whose opponent had proved a failure in the first clash of flying fists, had sneered at his fallen foe, and the Baby Giant, carried away by temper from an habitual reticence, had voiced his disgust as lie started for the door. The Troy Tiger shouted something at him to which he hotly replied, and — before he knew it he had with one sweeping clutch stripped his coat, vest, and shirt and climbed into the ring. Buffeted right and left and fronted by a living fury, the Troy Tiger went down bathed in red, the world whirling dizzily in the terrible onrush of a face which cried as it came. How he got out the Baby Giant never knew. The ironmoulders shouted with delight and tried to raise him upon their .shoulders till he struck right and left; and then, sullenly savage, he went to his tiny room alone, heedless of his scant hurts.

His fellows gazed with envy when sporting reporters and a distinguished "pugilistic manager sought him on tho following day, in the very gloom of the moulding room and with the superintendent's permission. "Get out!" lie roared to them all. "Get out! If yon don't'let me alone I'll —" and he would have struck the man with the double watch-cliain, diamond stud, and silk liat, had not they crowded in 011 him too closely, to prevent the delivery of the blow. AY hen his warmest friend remonstrated he stood silent.

"Geordie, lad," the friend said in liisuncouth way, "don't ye see what itmeans? Ye'll lick them all. Ye'll be a world's champion. Ye'll have money, an' own saloons, an' —the wimmon will kneel to ye!"

Perhaps' it was the thought of the saloons, for which he had a natural distaste, or the bepainted women, whom he loathed, that directed' his answer. "I'll liare none of them," lie said. "Get out!" And they, disgusted that such 'iv glorious physical thing should disdain such an honorable and distinguished career as prize-fighting—in their minds —offered, left him after deciding that he was a fool. To his friend that night lie admitted, by way of apology, that he. didn't have the heart. He voiced his thoughts as if ashamed ot his words.

"Jimmy," he said, "I'll tell you what I'll tell no other. I couldn't bear to hurt a man who'd, done me no harm. 1 licked that Troy Tiger because he .called me a name I don't stand for, though the only mother I ever had was Bridget■ Casey." We'll talk no move of it, lad—we'll talk no more." And that was final. At twentv-nve there, came to nim liis first gleam "of another and softer world than that where cyclopean muscle and tliew were the standards of worth. The thrift of his foster 7 mother and his cleanly habits had enabled him to amass a fortune of some few hundred dollars, which he kept- secreted 'neatli the floor of his shabby room. In a sudden fit of extravagance he arose from the penurious elemental tiling and bought the first tailor-made suit he ever owned.' lie derived no satisfaction from the tailor's flattering remarks 011 liis physical form, and when first he donned the suit, felt overly dressed and lost his buovant independence of motion; but in his new habiliment he was worth looking at.

As if to tempt him from liis old seclusions and lonely pleasures, an acquaintance of his—the chief clerk in the shoeshop where he bought his him on the street and engaged him m conversation. The conversation led to the advantages of a. boarding-liouse, and, timorously, as if associating with those who wore clean clothes throughout the day was something far above his own social status, he accepted an. invitation to dinner. He did not -know; then, nor till a year had passed, that lie had fallen under the discriminating eye of Madge Carpenter, and that his introduction merely decided a silly boarding-house bet, in which the snoe clerk won. '_ ... . .

Onco launched in this new environment, ho began to watch those about liim who lived in this unknown world. There were refinements of which lie had not dreamed. He learned that one must not eat with' a ' knife, . and that lingers, though more- convenient, are not as refined as forks. To lift the hat; to be less careless in personal attire; to stand when women enter a room; to sneak softly and to hold the tongue wlien need be. were accomplishments that came slowlv, and whose acquirement, in time, lifted him above the. derisive notice of those who lived iuthe same place. .... , Madge - Gnrpentoiv worked in a clpaK store, and w;ip from-the outset, to (be most beautiful thing that had ever existed. At first he was the butt of: her iokos. At last he.'ivas her most i interesting study,- and, the trifler being i-angbt, she fell before his earnest and elumsv eloquence. .. . n "You're going -to marry me, tie said cue night, nearly a year areeiv they had sat opposite each other at the table-

She laughed, but nervously. There was something so ,p_ositiye in the- assertion when it' was- passed between such determined ;lips. - Quite suddenly she looked at him from a new viewpoint. W'hv not? He bad money—so much.lie had' artlessly told her. He was a, superb animal. Properly- handled lie,might hecorno something. Sh«» was tired of working as- a shop girl. She wanted some. one: of strength . to., stand- between her and all that ;hard future wherein "was nothing bufc.,the shop. He repeated, •his assertion, more doggedly,- coupled i with a. question. "You're goin' to marrv me.-" Ain't you?" he said, and she, "fearing that he would accent no rebuff, and not daring to. trifle with him as women .do; trifle -when being asked to mate, accepted. ; The- first occasion on which he had ever'missed-a day's work, or asked for a lay-off, was when he took time to

marry the girl who to. him represented, all the refinement, grace, and. beauty of , the world. So long had he leen accustomed, to wearing a tailor-made 1 suit that lie was no longer con- • scious of it on tlvat day when ho escorted her to the ministers house where the ceremony was performed but the' ride in the cab was a. distinct novelty. He examined tlio cushions as they drove along and studied the ingenuity of the door-catch. He _was surprised that the fare was sj> small, having been convinced from his boyhood that none but the rich or extravagant ever indulged in such iiot of luxury. Outwardly,- being repressed, he displayed nothing of this new emotion, and his bride, looking at him with a calm, apE raising eye, admitted exultantly that e was by far the handsomest ana most presentable man she had ever seen. To that extent her judgment was good, for his face was clean-cut and resolute, although perhaps too grave for one or. his years, and a wedding day.

They went to Atlantic City for, a week, and she, having had insufficient time to forget frugality, made tho arrangements for board at a' place well within their means. For him it was a week of. wildest revel: for her one .of constant admiration. Unable, to swim herself,, she found- a sense of security in the ease with which 'ho carried her, out to the float, and that lie was accepted as the most splendid physical thing in all that riot of form gavo her a self-complacent sense of gratification. That lie could., outswim all others, and was more daring than a life-saver on that day when another swimmer was seized with cramps, lifted liim.'for the moment above his illiteracy, of whicli she had already grown painfully con-, scions; and that ho was lier devoted slave gave her hope for his. development. That the man he saved was a bauker appealed to her sense of romance ; to him it meant nothing. ...

AVlien they returned to Jersey City where they were to establish their home, her plans had already taken embryonic form. She had discovered that she could do anything with liim, though with every other huniiin being he was determinedly independent to the point of obstinacy. The home itself aided lier, for to him it was a palace beyond compare in which, lor weeks, he trod lightly as though fearing that his heavy bulk would disjoint it, or bring shattering to tho floor some of tho cheap instalment bric-a-brac with which sho had equipped it. He had 110 knowledge of realities when it came to a house. The cheap gilt frames of "real oil paintings" from auction house, tho multitude of junk from the five-and-ten-eent counters, were all real and all beautiful. Carried away by the home-fitting intoxication, sho had invested tlio greater part of his hard-grown fortune before sho paused to calculate; then, having still a sense of thrift, sho piit the balance in a savings bank. In less than three months after they were married she began lier second campaign, which was for his education. "Go to night school r" he asked wonderingly. "What for? I can read and write and do all the figurin' I liavo to. What's the use? Ain't it enough to work in the daytimes? When it gets night I want to be here—" and then, half-abashed —"with you." "But, my dear," she insisted, "you don't seem to know that vou don't talk correct."

He almost lapsed into a sullen mood, as if sensing, dumbly, that she was finding fault with him for his imperfections. For the first time lie went to his rest and tossed on his bed for hours, striving to master this problem and to discern whether or not the future was all to be as roseate as lie, in stupid bliss, had conceived. She had been asleep for hours, oblivious to his torment, when ho awoke her. "I've decided to go," he said, " —to go to night school. I promise!" Sho murmured a petulant, sleepy reply and turned back to her interrupted rest. Until dawn ho wondered at it—this new phase of temperament and ambition ; but could not avoid the conclusion that she was ashamed of him and that naught but study would keep tho thread and woof of their domestic happiness together. He had cooked his breakfast and gone—as usual—that morning before she awoke; but when night came was home with his regular promptitude. "I've found the place," ho said. "Stopped on the way home. Paid down the bills and am goin', to-njght. The professor said he'd get me. them books." That was all: Before she had cleared away the dishes he was gone, grave, determined, and essaying his new work :,s doggedly as he did everything else in life that was diflieulo. Night after night he worked laboriously at this new task, long after she had gone to bed. His brows took 011 a new line of thought, his eyes gained a new depth, and ho was undergoing a subtle change which she, frivolous and gratified, did not perceive. She di d'not know the humiliation a grown man of such noticeable physique imist endure when studying ■ with scores of children far younger than himself. Nor did she_ appreciate the trials of the untrainedmjnd in grasping problems, in even the mere ability to concentrate.

In the new leisure of her married life and the unmerited indulgence of her giant husband', Madge Cain lolled idly most of the day, reading a class of literature wherein the heroines were such as she pictured herself and the heroes of a different status from her husband. They wero ever immaculate; but he came home at night with overalls stained and burned, with smudged cap pulled low over his smudged brows, and with hands that 110 manicuring could make other than those representative of hard labor. Slowly and gradually she began to chafe at these discrepancies. Sat and watched him and chafed, when he, with the same.coarse hands thrust through ruffled hair, leaned over his books trying to master their contents. The hard physical work of the days and hard mental studies of the nights were telling upon him; but already his anxiety to learn had carried him far from the? children's class.

On the day she was "over in the city" she met the banker her husband had saved on the street, and he, remembering her, lifted his hat. Flattered by the recognition, she spoke to him, arid then the idea was bom. With a directness that was ingenious, she asked him to get her husband a position in the bank. , The banker looked perturbed. His recollection of the athlete who had dragged him from the undertow was that his rescuer was illiterate.

"Is he qualified by—er—education?" lie asked.

"Him? Why, I should —say so!" slio declared. "He's finely educated, and .—he's honest! He's worked in one place all his life, but they don't know no's educated."

She gave the name of the foundry. The foundry superintendent had to look George Cain up on the books to know that such a mail existed when he received, some weeks later, a letter from the bank asking what character the man possessed. The superintendent went out through the shops to identify this moulder for whom a bank asked, and', being in a hurry, wrote across the back of the letter. "Been here twelve years. Never lost a day with, exception' of. time married Character good so far as we know," and hurriedly mailed it, pausing oril.v to wonder what the splendid j'oung animal had cause a bank to inquire regarding his record.

Madge Gain was deliriously happy when tho letter came from the banker,-'offering-.'her-husband a position in a small branch of the institution if "he could-qualify.

Baby Giant stared at the ,letter .with frowning brows. - "It's not in my/lino," he declared. "What did they send this to, me'for? rMusir.be a mistake?" ■ -

She nestled in his lap .and ;gave him the secret. . Still ;■ he rebelled. Once more he was timorous.s: Banks were known to him as awesome places, where immaculately-dressed and austere young men-took his savings-book without a word', counted his few dollars, "put aside for a rainy day," threw back the book disdainfully, and said: "Step on, please!" His wife had learned tho efficacy of pouting lips and tearful eyes. These, used as her last argument, won. The next day the foundry foreman accepted his resignation, wondering, as the'superintendent had, what had happened. He had donned his "Sunday clothes" and presented himself at the bank with

.r" : . ' <iliis- letter, where the manager, ii cold, hfrecise, over bred 'varsity man, who re- ' because ho had not been born money, stared him out of counte'iMnce, impressed' him with his own im- :■ poirtance, and then, as if throwing a r -"-''bone to a dog. told him to report at • -nine o'clock 011 the following morning.

.v; A."'terrible week passed in • this new 'environment. He was a teller's »s- ---■ sistant, where nothing beyond accuracy in addition was required. He drew his -pay on Saturday afternoon, and for tlie -" .first time comprehended that the men " .with starched collars behind the fornud- . dble bars of brass drew less money than the men with overalls. He would have rebelled openly save for 31 is wife s ne--light. He sighed heavily, shook his / Head, and carried the envelope home for her approval.

"Never mind," she purred comfortingly; "in a year or so you'll be the main guy at the window,- and then you'll get a lot more. It's fine to be 111 a bank. "We've got to move to New :; Tork and forget all about these folks we've known here. They won't be in ; -bur set any more." 1 His books were unread that night, although he dutifully strove to wade: into their meaning. He read paragraphs over and over agairt: -mechanically. without grasping then. por-. t-ont, and sometimes awoke from his 'trance to wonder at his-own misery. 'Something in her words troubled .him. sentiment, "our set." "Where had •"glrs got that? Had Madge-changed. were - her social ambitions leaJy ;!ifag to?

- Inevitably they led to the apartment - jn the Bronx, where there was .1. tr.aible ~'.entrance, a few colored seiv.rptfc, and -■ Hrencliment to make ends. meet. J.t. all the money from _the sayings <•. •■-lJjjjik,' ft new indebtedness «it "ciu'instalment house, foi more flashy fui ni- ' tjure which their new station, according t 'to r his wife's ideas, demanded. She v. 'made Jiew friends, of some of whom 'ijie stood in awe. Once 111 a while they 'entertained. Once a month she invited 'Someone to the theatre-, and that meant /'dress-suit: He: could not appreciate how J well it adorned him, or that jt ■v-; Was -a - necessity m "their set." He ■•was uncomfortable 111 it at -first, but " -dh time'learned-to bear it. Insidiously ..''■iliey - entered' into -debt. Now- it was ;-sthe-■deferment of the instalment, now I-/.it" was bitt partial payment to the cor- • ; butcher. . ; -. 1 "Never mind," liis wife said, when 'v 4he mildly expostulated; "you'll soort ' iket a "raise, dearie, and he grew more ;Jiaggar<l over Ins studies, which 110 noiv with some zest. The death of *Jlis wife's aunt and a small bequest , ' jHreed them from debt and-loft a small ' t Jium in the bank. Now-, when ,he exshe "told him in no uncertain •;,"terms that as the money was her own . £6he-was the one who should dictate its a fact which lis was com-\-pfclled to admit. ; r ,At the end of a year he was made a gillie had succeeded, with effort, in ayoid■jHn'g'any serious blunders and had really , ffgrown more adept in his additions. . The ijincrease of salary was : sufficient, so that could look forward with some faint rhope af another savings account, and the- purchase of books which his ,adrvance in study had necessitated. Madge . was overjoyed. By the same old in-' sidious method she increased their' exI spenses. Most of the expense was per•\Bonal, which he could not fight against. iShe bought more expensive gowns, she -Was no • longer contented with bargain ■■sale hats, and envied her_ neighbor's ( furs. The -simplicity of,- necessity which had given her an air of good gave way to' the. frippery of ..'/exaggerated fashion,which made her ?s.lbok.icheap. 111 her attempt to be precise she had assumed a fictitious method of - conversation; also, her assumption bof station sometimes included but a half-truth. She affected an air of erudition on all things, discussing with ease the latest opera, which she" had /never-seen, .the horse show, ■ which she t -had never, visited. Quite frequently, ■ fewhen the Baby Giaiit, worn arid worried, returned home and some of her . )'friends were present, she greeted him a , saying ' 'Well*' dearie, how 'tfare: things down at the bank?" as if ;"\tlle whole institution was. loaded upon ;vliis shoulders. When, the- : directory i.'-man 'came to her dpor, she gave her' '.v'husband's occupation as "banker," and h -' developed her social status to the point she accepted 5 the ' ddulatiori of • flunkeys. Efer name, from "Margaret" < j;became "Marguerite" on her cards. He, vainly struggling with brains ■which could not be clerical, found liis '- .new .-position harder than lie had anticipated. ,He- could never become accus■iftomed to the bars of.'brass' that hedged linn 111 from all that outer world where the an- swept free. The foundry had given him the hard physical outchnrge • of:lns great muscles, and he had gloried ■ in that strength. The debts had: come again to harass him, and the whole environment of fiction was being ground • f into his big heart. He made mistakes, quite serious —one —two—three and' --each time was called into the office of .--the manager., who delighted in displaying to his inferiors what lie considered ; his superior line of wit and satire. Finallv, on that dav of the fourth blun--=<ler, he showed his fine culture and --breeding bv paring his linger nails when -lie ca'lled the trembling teller down. - -rS v"They say you came here from an - .iiron foundry," ho said, without looking ••'at- the worried face above.":liini. "The iron business doesn't seem to have died • • :suice vou . stopped carryirig ladles, and ."/afjiyou ,;raake another bull like that of io'-day it's probable the banking business will experiment and see whether ft-:can exist after you're fired."

' George Cain's face turned white, then "livid,- He walked out, knowing that - ;he-was a failure in this eminently high clerical line; Dazed by .the threat of -discharge, ' lie took the stifling subway -home, and his head felt a whirl when she ••entered his ;apartment. His wife, in ~a Hew -silk; gown of gorgeous design, :-'Was .entertaining, although in liis pocket was'the unpaid grocer's bill.* ;* ■"-'How are things .at t'he bank, dearie?" she questioned, giving liim a stage kiss for the benefit of her friends, vSittd- then, before lie could answer,'she launched into an eifective discussion of " a-sjbanker's business woes when business was 'bad.

'He went to his room as soon as lie .dared, still bewildered .with his troubles. When he came to the dinner "table most of whose viands were Jiot ,paid for,- he ..dropped - into -his chair. ■ Madge still wore the gown. He looked across at it, his interest-aroused. '■ "New?" he questioned. ''Certainly," she answered, without, -thV softness of voice-that she. assumed

in-public intonation. "Certainly! You. ' don't expect me to go' round hk& a friirfip because you don't'.-get. no more -.salary, do'"you?" ■ -4 : '' No -more salary." Somehow the words gave -him a new thought-. The. : of speech, which he, by hard .ef-. * fo¥t, had overcome, jarred oil him for vth&.-first time.-- "We can't afford it," he/remonstrated, looking at his plate. , . . %'Hfqu could if you wanted, to■ ask 'em for 'more money," she asserted; and his face-darkened when ho thought of tlie manager's threat of discharge. 'He.was unconscious that- her voice was " trailing along-in a declaration, that she had 'to keep up appearances for the "benefit of "their set," and alsothat she was reproaching him for his inability

to ' acquire or earn as much money as other men. His very silence aggravated and stimulated her to further coiiiplainti • v

:"What if we do get in debt?" she asked' belligerently. "Better men man ■*= vou "have gone into bankruptcy when they got in bad. It pays. You don't understand these things. I've been thinking them over. You .never think. ■ Only last month the president of a big bank went into insolvency and this week he's down at the Madison' Snu are Flower Show in his bubble. They don't thiflk none the less of him, arid ho was

president. You're nothing but a teller and—" she hesitated in her wrath tor a moment, and then, in a hysteric-! burst of- tears. got up from the table and. ran towards her room, finishing as she slammed the door—"a fool!" He sat at the tabic dully, his head drooping forward on his massive chest and his hands hanging listlessly open by his sides. The mock candles with

'their cheap, red shades, the plated sil- » ver the imitation horn carving set, the spurious paintings, all passed in review. The newly acquired cheap servant,. who was paid merely to eook and

serve the dinner, was watching him. from acrors the whj+es of her gtupid eyes accentuated by ths duski'Bfii'a.cf lis-r face and the shaded light.

"Yon —you may go," he said softly, wishing that she might not embarrass him by staring at his misery. He got up and staggered out of the room and walked down the seven flights of stairs as though forgetting that- rn elevator existed. A rain, gentle but uncommisserating, was falling, and from the glittering cross-street beyond- he saw reflections of moving vehicles, the shine of light on wet rubber coats, and the blurred halo around the arc-lamp. Heedless of the night, he turned with no sense of direction to the northward, wandering on, and 011, and on.

It was the first open quarrel he had had with Madge. Slowly its evolution began to take shape in his mind. Hideous truths were striking hometruths he -had blinked at; Calmly lie realised even the small discrepancies and admitted that her speech was not. as perfect as he had believed it m thoEa 1 far-off days, when he came to the Jarsey Citv ' boarding-housecame- tbere.il that the shoe clerk might win (a . 1 bet:| i and bring him, the splendid animal, into the ,show. Lines of' that marvellous Shakespeare--;which < -he -had- learned. to love floated 'through his- distraught 1 mind: Tliat hackneyed«tlnng,of Burns, with whom lie had - but recently-become acquainted-, "Oil, 1 -wad some poirer the. 1 giftie gie us to see oursels as ithers see .us!" ■ •■•' ' : -_r" '- :! ! ,J That was it. He had the gift at last, i He- was - seeing himself as others saw i him. And' so, through -the night, .tile dawn, and- the early morning hours,, lip pondered on it -headless of-whither lie went; unconscimiSj m fact, ol his pro? gressj - ' .'- ■ 1 ■ ■ ■ ■■ i -".v "Look ■ at: .that fctol. out,there,. !trying< to row his boat squarely up against the, tide!" "■ ■ ■ . . 1

A voice at his elbow was the fust.J noise that aroused him to himself 01 his surroundings- Quite slowly he comprehended that it was well into the foreI noon; that the sun was high ; that lie : was tired; that "lie was sitting on. the I edge oi the wharf m Yonlcers; and also ■ that once. some, time iir the dawn, the 1 r.ong of swirled waters had sounded restful, seductive,, and -■inviting. ;'• 1 " What would vou do?" he asked, i aroused from his apathy and looking l over his shoulder at a- square-cut old man -who was behind. _ I "Do 0 AVhv, anybody but an idiot would come out alongshore and get. the dead water. Get 111 where it's qniet and go on up till he cam'o m l>ehind the tide. It's a fool -who tries to buck tlie tide when lie can go l ound it. ' The tide works for them that takes advantage erf it." f . • . The old man, doddemng, went lis wav The Baby Giant, dropping into a boat wliicli was moored."to the wharf and for a long time "saved his hands arid face in the cool tide. He--stood up at last, climbed to tlie wharf, and started back to the .Babel his course uiideviatiiig. 'He passed -without - pause to the bank, and, as lie entered, camo full into collision with t-lie irate man-; ager.. "Ycu had better explain," the manager began, in liis precise 'varsity way, but was interrupted. The Baby Giant- caught lnm deftly, seized both lapels of his coat, the iindergarments, and some of the flesh beneath in one hand, and lifted him up and binned him to the wall. i '• "Hush*!" he said very quietly.. "Hush!"' - All the restraint of voice to which he had bedn educated through the recent vears restricted .his throat. He stared hard into the white face hefore him and seemed cynically amused at . the ' protruding - eyes and blanched lips. . . "Don't speak!" lie --whispered.. "Please, don't speak!" There was almost a plea in his voice, as if he feared that he'could control himself but little longer. "See. I'm.back. Came to get my"personal belongings from my desk. I've quit!" He let the shivering and terrified creature of that other" life of bars, figures, and coin down, although still restraining him. "You're fired! vYou're fi- ' George's hand crept around- the slen_der throat. .. ..'..-• . ■ "Please —-please don't speak," he went on in that same deadly pathetic and pleading voice; "I!m going. Only don't raise a noise, because—because" -lie appeared; to loose, a little restraint arid leaned forward until his . staring eyes hypnotised , the managed into a horrible silence, "because, if you do, by Heavens, I'll tear your head off ! I've come to the end.. You bullied me, the man who did his best, because you were the child .of advantages. No one may ever do it again and live. Goodbve!"

The manager's hands went to his throat, and, cowed, lie watched through the grating "when the giant strode to his desk where, his assistant was taking in the first of the forenoon's receipts. "Get out!" tlie teller said laconically, and threw open-the drawer and took out some personal letters. Before anyone could recover.from tlie surprise of seeing this' familiar yet new man who had come among-them—'the man they had not dreamed of—he was gone.

When he entered his apartments it was still with his: head thrown firm!y back. His wife met him in the diningroom, and would- have given utterance to the reproaches she had. carefully studied, had not -something of a new mastery in his face restrained and held her dumb. "Madge," he said with unusual softness, - although his . fingers tightly clenched and his suffering face was drawn - and-white', "I've thought it. out and come to myself. I owe you ranch. You led me into, study—w-ere the cause of my education. That much I do

owe! I'm going to ruake amends "y educating you, I'm going to take you away from this thing that isn't, true. I'm going to take-you back to the real thing, I've done, with pulling against the tide and am going around it. We're ■ going to begin over again, you and I, and this time we,begin right, because I shall direct the way."

She dropped back on the lounge and debated, whether it was safe to become hysterical. She decided 1 that it was not, and was afraid —afraid that if she put forth mock heroics, the man returned, the great, powerful physical tiling, would chastise her as an unruly child. Something new had awakened in him. and it suggested unfaltering purpose and power. It was invincibly elemental, primitive, and vet dismfied. He had pulled the draperies aside with one throw of his firm hand and entered his own room. Awed and expectant,. she waited, for what she was not certain, but knowing that Fate itself was setting the stage for the next scene. He came forth and she looked at him vith wide; eves. From the place where ho had kept it- in his closet-through all the years; despite her protests, he had donned his old garb. In stained, burned overalls and- jumper, and with tlie dingy, metal-marked cap upon his head he stood before her, all the great muscles of him showing through the thinness 'of the denim. The strong neck with-its defiant poise, the w ellrounded head, thrown, back, and J .he square chin with its clean lines, w,pre as they had been when first she saw him save that now tliere was an added i strength of intelligent- self-valuation | lending a-subtle gleam of ma-stery to his eyes. ■ . "I'm going back," lie almost whispered, "going back to the moulds. We've "Been wrong, little girl; ; we've, taken the wrong road. The real things aren : t smothered and hidden-in the furbelows. It's the iron of life that one must handle and mould, hot and gleaming, to found the perfect structure..... I • said you taught me much., - You have! You've taught me the full, appreciation of shams.- I've > learned that an ironi master owns the- control of the .bank where I worked —rand—well—l'm, going to look for a job. - Some day, - perhaps—" * , . . ' His dreams were , awakening -in. au their broad, fair outlook, vividwitli.new. . vouth. He was-- beginning again, as he had said. He paused and looked at her, drooping back upon the couch', avid then at all the sham- glorv with which '•lie had filled their home, turned and grasped tho tawdiy brass 'knob with stead v futgers, opened the doer ■and- closed >it after him. ■ "