“I have nothing to say,” Covington replied.

Gorham waited until Brady had made his departure before he turned to the man sitting in silence before him.

“This is all that is needed to make the blow complete, is it not?” he asked, in a voice which betrayed the feeling beneath by its quiet restraint.  “Even the awakening which came to me when the committee showed their real selves was not enough.  I still believed that I could carry through my purpose, and I relied on you to help make this possible.  I, who felt myself strong enough to undertake the revolutionizing of the business world because of my magnificent support, find myself, like Samson, shorn of my strength, and face to face with a realization that man is by nature the cringing slave of the almighty dollar.  He may, for a time, or for a purpose, disguise it even from himself, but when the real test comes, he dare not disregard the compelling voice of his master.  This is enough of an awakening, but think of the pain which accompanies it when one finds that the friend in whom he trusted, that the one man whom he was most proud to honor, fails even to measure up to the simple test of honesty!  Oh, Covington, I find it hard to bring myself to believe it!”

“What do you propose to do?” Covington asked.

“First of all, I shall place the facts before the Directors.  They at least shall know that I have not been false to them or to myself.”

“When will you do this?”

“As soon as possible,—­this afternoon if I can get them together.”

“Would you mind postponing it until to-morrow?”

“What is to be gained by that?”

“May I have an interview with you at your house to-night?  It is for this that I ask the postponement.”

“Certainly,” Gorham replied, wonderingly.  “I will see you at nine o’clock.”

“I thank you,” said Covington, rising and leaving the office without further comment.

XXIX

Gorham received two callers on that Saturday night.  Sanford came first, and the heartiness of the welcome extended him thawed out the blustering exterior which made it so difficult for the warm heart underneath to assert itself.

“I never was so proud of any one,” cried Gorham, with more enthusiasm than he often manifested.  “Now it is the old Stephen I used to know and love, acting his own self once more!  But you are going to have your chance to crow over me.  Stephen, I’ve been a more obstinate old fool than you ever thought of being, and I’m going to make you my father-confessor.”

Then he told him of Allen’s development, from the first day he entered the offices of the Consolidated Companies down to the time when he had himself sent the boy away from him in anger.  He even told him of the crisis in the corporation, knowing that their conversation was sacred to his old friend.  Then he dwelt on Allen’s courage in the face of his own blindness, and his admiration for the boy’s attitude throughout.