The Clio messenger. (Clio, Mich.) 1907-current, 1920-05-13
CHAPTER VIII.


For thirty days Hilliard had listened
10 the eulogies of his secret self. He
had heard from a hundred sources the
same belief repeated, that Dicky Nor
gan, given time and counsel, would
have made the city as proud of him for
his intrinsic worth as IL now was
proud of him for his military valor.
This praise of Dicky Morgan had at
first stunned billiard; after that, 1t
had exalted him; still later, 1t had
abased his soul. He had longed,
ceaselessly, during that third period
of his introspection, to take the city
to his heart, to reveal himself, to an
swer for Dicky Morgan's failures and
to pledge himself anew to the achieve
ment which Dicky Morgan's friends
had prophesied; and then he had been
overwhelmed by the recollection that
he had made this course impossible.
II he had only known that all his de-
ceptions were needless. II he had
only known that Dicky Morgan could
have come home, and been forgiven
What anguish he could have saved
and what repentance And the prob
lem was still the same-should he
continue, safe in his masquerade, to
the goal he had set for himself, or
should he risk the worst, and salve
his conscience by remuneration?
BY far the most distressing factor In
this puzzle was his relationship to Car
oil Durant. He had seen her only half
a dozen times during the month, and
never alone-the fates or Armstrong
had circumvented him-but he was
head over heels in love with her again,
and no sensed, from fugitive glances
and a stray word or two on her part,
that she wasn't entirely averse to him.
But what would Carol think II she
knew that this grave and tender
stranger was hiding behind the wrath
Of Dicky Morgan-it was thousand
times the worsel If she were ever
truly In love with Henry billiard, 1t
was impossible!
And then there was little Angela
Cullen
And In addition, there was the seri-
Gus business of making good; he was
no longer impelled to 1t by resentment,
but rather by unadulterated ambition;
this, too, he would see destroyed by
any admission of his deceit. To con-
tinue in the game was to lose his prob
ity; TO relinquish it was to lose all
else; and even now, his JOY and pride
was contained in precisely those things
which he must give up, If he decided
to tear off the mask Of hypocrisy; and
his self-respect was rising out Of the
mud of what he never should have
done at all.
When he thought Of his worldly am
billions, he was profoundly regretful
that he had talked professionally with
Mr.. Cullen. To be sure, the matter
had come up casually and naturally,
and the opening had seemed too good
TO be missed; at the same time, Hill
lard couldn't help rejecting that 1t
had been premature. 1t might prove,
eventually, to have been just the prop
er course to produce results; II might
be that Cullen would become so impa-
tient that he couldn't be restrained,
and would leap without looking, and
leap further than he intended, and yet,
ever since that preliminary interview,
Hilliard had known that he had made
a breach in his own fortresses; that
he had rendered 1t possible for an in
formal (and logical enough) investi-
CATION to begin, or for mild suspicion
TO arise and gain momentum before
he had devised the means Of combating
IL. And although Hilliard believed
implicitly in the goods he had to sell,
he knew the difficulty Of the market (;
he knew how timorOus is the average
investor: and he knew that there
might very easily come a time at which
his harangue would be remembered,
and remembered adversely.
In this connection he was irritat-
ed by the tone of Harmon's letters TO
him from New York. Harmon was en-
thusiastic, and confident; he was re-
lying sturdily on billiard to break
through the acumen OF the upstate
capitalists; but ne thought that Hill
Hard was making haste too slowly; he
opinel thar 81 billiard needed to do
49, n r-s-'A hiuiseif ~ q hard on