they are n't like you. It'll come to a fight if you go there, and he 'll break you as he broke the railroadthat's why I say, don't go."

"Tom," inquired Craigin, pacing the floor, and writing an imaginary letter on his left palm with the forefinger of his right hand, "Tom, how does this sound?

'HON. HENRY HARNETT.

The salary is more

'DEAR SIR: Your favor is just received. than I hoped for at first, and the position highly satisfactory; in fact, I expected to begin as a reporter. It has been my ambition to be connected with a paper that has positive convictions of right and wrong and the courage to stand by them, that leads rather than follows, and represents principles rather than spoils. I would, therefore, gladly accept your offer were I not informed that such a paper might offend the richest and most influential man in your city. Under the circumstances, I think it will be safer and in every way better for me to find a community where I can edit a paper of high moral tone and positive convictions without offending anybody.'

Tom, suppose I should put that in black and white and send it to Mr. Harnett? What would he think of me? What would the professor who has written to him think of me?"

"They'd despise you, of course."

"Despise me! The lowest party hack would despise me as a coward and a hypocrite. Yet it's only putting your suggestion into plain English. Tom, the first principle of honesty is honesty with one's self. I won't act on motives that I can't put in black and white and publish to the world without shame."

"That's awfully pretty in theory," observed Tom. "A theory does n't amount to Hannah Cook,” re

plied Craigin, "if it is n't true, if it won't stand the test of living up to."

"It's pretty to look at and talk about," continued Tom, "but it does n't wash in real life. If you idealists could agree, and were as brave and self-sacrificing as you talk, there's nothing you could n't do; but you 're the only one of 'em I ever saw, if you thought it a duty to stand on a railroad track, would stay there and let a train run over you. I'll admit it's sublime, though to common people like me it looks a good deal like suicide."

"Well?"

"Well, Uncle John's made of the same kind of stuff you are, only he has n't your principles and would n't be handicapped with conscientious scruples. I've no doubt some of the 'Tocsin' people have principles as radical as yours, and if they feel very strong and brave maybe they'll help you stir up the old lion; but when it comes to the crunching of bones they won't be there."

"Crunching of bones! Tom, these men, for the public good and with hardly a chance of profit, have put their money into what 's as risky as a gold-mine, and they offer to pay me more than they can afford because they think I'll stand by 'em. I think I see myself, without a dollar of my own at stake, telling 'em between the lines they'll run away when it comes to a crunching of bones!"

For the first time in all their long comradeship Andrews threw his arms around Craigin's neck and kissed his forehead. "Chum," he cried pathetically, "you know how proud I am of you. We all are, here.

We all know that you will be a famous man, a great man, a useful man, if you don't let your quixotic notions of duty run away with your common sense. We've been like brothers for seven years, chum, and I love you better than any one else in the world except my mother, and next to you I love Uncle John. As sure as you go, chum, I know there 'll misery come of it. Don't go!"

"I can't promise you to-night, old man," said Craigin, greatly touched; "I must sleep on it."

"I know just how it 'll be," replied Andrews, sadly; 'you 'll sleep on it all right enough, and think it all over, and the more chance there is of struggle and sacrifice for an ideal, the more you 'll persuade yourself it's your duty. I know it is n't a bit of use, but I can't help saying, don't go!"

Two days later Craigin packed his bag and started for Apsleigh.

V

LUCIFER

RAIGIN accepted the position at a salary of two thousand dollars, half in treasury stock at sixty cents on the dollar. He found that Tom had not exaggerated Denman's power, and that the desire to maintain a paper with positive convictions was seasoned with a reasonable degree of worldly caution. Some of the stockholders also seemed to be influenced quite as much by hostility to the "Times" and other personal motives as by a wish to promote the public good.

In talking over the purpose and policy of the paper, the liquor question came up.

"It was established," said Mr. Harnett, "to represent the best wing of the Republican party. It is n't a temperance organ in the sense that the 'Congregationalist,' for example, is a sectarian organ, though of course it's on that side."

"I'd much rather it would be as it is," replied Craigin. "I could n't edit a paper as a lawyer pleads a cause, regardless of his own convictions. I believe in prohibition where public sentiment will sustain it.

I can't say yet that I believe in it as a hard and fast rule. I have n't had a chance to think it out for myself.”

Craigin was charmed with Apsleigh. As Andrews had said, it was a daisy. On the afternoon of the second day he saw a crowd collecting on one of the principal streets, and joined it.

"He's a beauty, hain't he?" exclaimed an old farmer. "Harnsomest colt in the State," replied a flashy man, with the positive tone of self-made authority.

"Too much of the old man in him for a hoss," said another.

"F he sets up his Ebenezer ag'in' John Denman there'll be music, let me tell ye," prophesied a fourth. Craigin gradually worked his way through the crowd to the front. The animal referred to was a stallion of price and pedigree, large, powerful, spirited, matchless in form, black as midnight, beautiful as the day. His name was Lucifer, which being interpreted is Son of the Morning. It was evident that he had not a little of the waywardness of the fallen angel.

Seated in a light buggy was a man quite as noticeable as the horse. His slouch-hat was tipped back, revealing a massive forehead. His deep-set eyes were keen and gray. His nose was sharp His mouth was large, but well formed, and beneath his thin lips were exceptionally handsome teeth. His chin was a fine and strongly marked feature. His head and his thin, almost bloodless face were covered with short, grizzled hair. His frame was spare and considerably above medium height. His age was about sixty. He wore no driving-gloves, and was carelessly dressed in a wellworn suit of iron gray.