thing. I told her we was rich-the Lord forgive me for boasting—and we was rich because you had made us so. I told her Mark said that every dollar we had you'd made for us, and that you had looked out for and protected his interest and business as he couldn't do himself, and that you were the best friend a man could have. "Took property from Mark?' says I. 'Mr. Dunbar has given property to Mark, and on my knees, with the children about me on theirs, every night we thank God that He gave Mark Pollock so good a friend as J. Percival Dunbar.'

"Well then, you just ought to have seen her. Her face was white enough while I talked, and I thought she was mad, but she cried out, 'Oh! how I have wronged him!' and then she cried and sobbed as if her heart would break. Then I knew she was interested in you. And now you save her life and I see you together again, and if that ain't like a novel, I don't know one."

The good woman had stopped from sheer want of breath. Dunbar was overwhelmed. He got away into the open air. The secret of the coolness of Kitty Van Zandt was revealed to him. He hardly knew what to think of it. That some one had told her an exaggerated story of his securing a half interest in Pollock's invention he had no doubt. Her father

What course was he

had said only that afternoon that she was a girl of high ideals, and she had held this story she believed to be true against him. And then, there was the recurrence of that trust in him by the Pollocks. And in that relation, too, what was he to do? to pursue? He walked on rapidly, for his mind was working rapidly and his pace was attuned to its workings. Nevertheless, his thoughts were confused, and Kitty Van Zandt, Edgar's turpitude, the gratitude of the Pollocks, his duty to Mark, his uncle's suggestions and a plot, yet formless, that had leaped into his mind at dinner, were jumbled together incongruously.

He had been strongly impelled to seek Pollock that evening, and yet had not determined what to say to him when he did see him. He thought on setting out that he would determine before he reached the house, but Mrs. Pollock's communication had destroyed any plan he had conceived. He was in this indeterminate frame of mind when he reached the factory in Kent avenue.

He found Pollock in his office busy with his patternmaker.

Much surprised to find his caller to be the president of his company, he rose with every indication of pleasure in his manner and greeting.

"The business must be important that brings you out here at this hour,” he said.

The patternmaker took the hint and left the two men alone. Pollock closed the door after him and came back to draw a chair up in front of Dunbar and sit down. He rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, his finger-tips meeting in front of him, leaning slightly forward in calm and patient expectancy.

Dunbar, regarding him earnestly, thought how strong that rugged face was, yet how simple and child-like and honest. He felt, too, that his task was more difficult than he had anticipated, and every plan or semblance of one he had had was abandoned then and there.

"Are you so pushed that you must work of nights?" asked the president.

"Hardly that. We have some machines to get out on contract time. That break in the engine room threw us out of three days. We're getting big enough here to have two engines against a break in one."

"It is not that I am here to talk of," said the president, as he perceived Pollock was getting on a hobby. "Mark, how much trust have you in me?”

"Why, Mr. Dunbar," said the machinist as a new light shone in his usually dull eyes, "I believe in my Maker and have faith in Him.

If it were not sacrilegious, I'd say I had as much faith in you. I am a contented man, lifted above the dragging cares of life, able to surround my loved ones with plenty, able to take care of any obligation I should want to undertake-richer than I ever dreamed of being, richer than I need to be—and all because of you and the faith I have had in you."

This was said so simply and so earnestly that Dunbar felt a queer tug at his heart, but he said lightly.

"A very comprehensive answer, Mark. I came here to have a talk with you to-night for I have had a worried day."

"I see that Universal has been bobbing around in the stock market.'

"It isn't that, Mark. Since I have come into this room I have abandoned all idea of talking to you as I intended."

He looked at the patient man in front of him and the hopelessness of making him understand the financial situation impending came uppermost. Pollock could grasp vigorously the intricacies of machinery, but that of modern finance, not at all. Besides, his very honesty would prevent him from comprehending.

"Mark," he said, "you are worth nearly a million to-night as matters stand. Exactly what I am. We began together without money,

we have advanced step by step together, and have reached the same stage together. You say I made you. I say you made me when you brought your invention to me and gave me a half interest.'

"It was useless to me until you put your brains into it and set it a-going."

"Well, then, let us say that I gave value to you equal to a half interest in promoting it and you gave me the means to work with for my good."

Pollock nodded, hardly following the distinction.

"Now," continued Dunbar, "Edgar, who financed our enterprise and took a much larger share than either, is up to some deviltry. I don't know what. When I look at it one way it makes me fear that it may reduce our property or wipe it out. To-morrow morning I shall take a step that will protect me personally. I want to take that step for you, too."

"Well, Mr. Dunbar, I don't understand you, but I say this: You do what you think is best. I'll trust you and your judgment."

"Few men, Mark, are willing to put the trust in another I am going to ask you to put in me. For I am going to ask you to trust me blindly, to ask you not so seek to know more than I now tell you. It will be asking