Evening star., 1909-06-16

to be looking either at him or at Standish
In cool. level. unhurried tones they were
speaking; these deniZenS of an unknown
world, into whose presence he fought his
way unasked, unwanted. Their language
was not his language: their thoughts were
not his thoughts. They were moving or
as if he did not exist Caleb remembered
having read in some newspapers re
print column how an oyster calmly
glozes over the grain of irritating sand
that has found unwelcome refuge within
its shell. He felt humiiiatingly like the
nucleus of such a pearl. And with the
thought and the waning of the wine
effects, came wholesome anger.
I've got more cash than the whole
| crowd of 'em put together" he told him
self fiercely.
The reflection did much to build up his
wobbling self-esteem. But, for the rest
less. dreary aeon of time, Mrs. Standish' s
eyeglasses flashed to the others of hel
sex the signal to retire. Every one rose
The women, collecting from the men be-
side them the handkerchefs. fans and
other feminine accessories that streweC
the floor under the table, filed out, chat
ting and laughing. Caleb, not minded to
seem inferior to any man by hanging
back and giving precedence to others
left the room at the heels of the last
woman.
| "Oh, Conover" called Caine, as the
Fighters shoulders vanished through the
doorway.
Il wanted to ask you something about
Steeloid preferred, If you don't mind
continued AmZi
A backward look told Conover that the
| men We're reseating themselves. He alsc
| saw the meaning of his mentors sum
mons. At that moment Caleb came
nearer feeling gratitude toward Cane
| than ever he had felt it for any man. He
! slouched back, unconcernedly; lighted g
cigar, shook out his match and dropped
| into the vacated chair at Gaines left
Mentally he resolved to tear the etiquette
book. leaf from leaf. for failing to war;
him that men outstay women in a dining
room. But, with characteristic calm, he
refused to be ruffied by the mistak
What was it you wanted to ask me?
said he.
About Steeloid." repeated Caine. land
about rumor | heard that the Rogers
Whitman Company is"
Don't let us talk business, growed
Conover Il never talk shop when I'm
out in s'ciety. It's bad form. I'd rather
chat Just now bout music
He was himself again; loudly self-as-
sured
This feIler, Back. they We're speakin
about at dinner tonight. he went on
I'm kind o rusty on op'ras lately. So
I've lost track of him. Is he composln
much nowadays"
Bach has been decomposing for a cou-
pie of centuries answered Caine.
one or TWO men ldueheu- 1dleD WaXeu
glum once more. Nor could the com
bine1 tact of Game and their host draw
him again into speech.
The Fighter, alowering in corner
watched the stream of musical guests
trickle in through the great double doors
He was lonely, cross, disappointed. He
could not define his own sensations nor
see how nor wherein he had failed. Fail
ure he had met. He knew that. But
the knowledge made him the more de-
termined TO persist in his assault until
the social citadel whose outWorks he had
stormed should be his. And the more
he thought the more his amorphous idea
of entering that citadel under a wife S
aegis began 10 take definite shape. He
found his gaze straying to where Lefty
Standish stood laughing and talking with
knot of newcomers Once his eye
caugnt hers and she smiled A polite.
deprecatory smile that strengthened