"What was it my father wrote
me when I told him I was going to New York?" and he recalled almost the
exact words--"New York that lures young men from the towns and the farms,
and prostitutes them, teaches them to sell themselves with unblushing
cheeks for a fee, for an office, for riches, for power." He shrugged his
shoulders, smiled, drew himself up, returned to his desk and was soon
absorbed in his work.
The next morning the _News-Record's_ double-leaded "leader" on the
Coal Trust was a discharge of heavy artillery. But it was artillery in
retreat. And in the succeeding days, the retreat continued--not precipitate
but orderly, masterly.
* * * * *
Ten days after their talk on the "coal conspiracy" Marian greeted him late
in the afternoon with "Oh, such a row with Mrs. Mercer!"
"Mrs. Mercer! Why, what was she angry about?"
"She wasn't--at least, not at first. It was I. I went to see her and she
asked me to thank you for stopping that fight on the coal conspiracy."
"That was tactful of her," Howard said, turning away to hide his
nervousness.
"And I told her that you had not stopped, that you wouldn't stop until you
had broken it up. And she smiled in a superior way and said I was quite
mistaken, that I didn't read the paper, I haven't read it for several days,
but I knew _you_, dear, and I remembered what you had said.
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