“Let the young cub starve for a while and he’ll realize what his father has done for him,” he fumed.  “Let him shift for himself and we’ll see how soon he’ll come home to roost.”

On he stamped along the street, his cane expressing upon the pavement the anger which consumed him, but becoming less violent as he approached the hotel where he had his appointment with Gorham.  He must calm himself, he urged, inwardly.  He had acted in the only way he could, and his old friend must not think he had been hasty or in judicial in the position he had taken.  He must be deliberate and self-possessed, as Gorham himself would have been under the same circumstances.  Then the cane came down again on the hard pavement with a resounding blow.  “Damn Gorham!” he muttered; “damn all these smooth-mannered men who never lose their tempers; damn everybody!”

“Come in, Stephen, come in; I’m glad to see you,” Gorham greeted him as he puffed into the apartment, almost exhausted by the double strain of losing his self-control and his strenuous efforts to regain it.  “I didn’t realize it was so warm outside.  This is the most summer-like October I have ever seen.  Sit down and I’ll have Riley mix you up something cooling.”

“No,” commanded Sanford, “not a drop; I’m cool enough.  I’ve been hurrying, that’s all.  Haven’t forgotten how fussy you are about keeping appointments on the minute, you see.”

Gorham laughed.  “I must have learned the trait from you; but it doesn’t apply to an old friend like Stephen Sanford,” he said.  “Business is business, of course; but you wrote me that you wanted my advice.  There are no minute appointments in friendship, Stephen.  My time is yours.”

“Thank you.”  Sanford was sparring for breath.  “I haven’t pestered you much with my personal affairs, have I?”

“You couldn’t ‘pester’ me with them, Stephen.  If I can serve you I’ll be as glad to as you would be to reciprocate.”

“Yes, yes.”  The visitor still employed monosyllables as far as possible as his vehicle of expression, but he was mastering his emotion.

“Have you seen Allen?” Gorham asked, naturally but unfortunately.

Sanford sprang out of his chair and waved his arms wildly.  “Why do you try to stir me all up again ?” he cried.  “Can’t you let me get my breath?”

Gorham looked at him amazed.  “Has anything happened?” he asked.

“The young reprobate!  I’ll show him.  I’ve cut him off without a penny, Robert; do you understand—­without a penny!”

“You’ve done what?” Gorham demanded, his face sobering.

“I’ll show him that he can’t make a monkey out of his father.  You’ve seen him, Robert.  You know what an obstinate, headstrong cub he is.  Wants to go into business, does he?  Thinks he knows what’s good for him better than his father does, does he?  I’ll show him.  He can go to the devil now—­that’s where he can go.”

Gorham knew better than to interrupt Sanford until his tirade was spent.  He watched him pacing up and down the room; he noted the twitching of his features, the clenched hands, and the violent color in his face.