and tries to run his sheet accordingly, and I am afraid that I would not make a bid for bridge girders below what it would cost to manufacture them honestly.  Tremlidge and I differ in politics; we hold conflicting views as to municipal government; we attend different churches; we are at variance in the matter of public education, of the tariff, of emigration, and, heaven save the mark! of capital and labour, but we tell ourselves that we are public-spirited and are a little proud that God allowed us to be born in the United States; also it appears that we have more money than Henry George believes to be right.  Now,” continued Mr. Campbell, straightening himself as though he were about to touch upon the real subject of his talk, “when the news of your return, Mr. Bennett, was received, it was, as of course you understand, the one topic of conversation in the streets, the clubs, the newspaper offices—­everywhere.  Tremlidge and I met at our club at luncheon the next week, and I remember perfectly well how long and how very earnestly we talked of your work and of arctic exploration in general.

“We found out all of a sudden that here at last was a subject we were agreed upon, a subject in which we took an extraordinary mutual interest.  We discovered that we had read almost every explorer’s book from Sir John Franklin down.  We knew all about the different theories and plans of reaching the Pole.  We knew how and why they had all failed; but, for all that, we were both of the opinion” (Campbell leaned forward, speaking with considerable energy) “that it can be done, and that America ought to do it.  That would be something better than even a World’s Fair.

“We give out a good deal of money, Tremlidge and I, every year to public works and one thing or another.  We buy pictures by American artists—­pictures that we don’t want; we found a scholarship now and then; we contribute money to build groups of statuary in the park; we give checks to the finance committees of libraries and museums and all the rest of it, but, for the lives of us, we can feel only a mild interest in the pictures and statues, and museums and colleges, though we go on buying the one and supporting the other, because we think that somehow it is right for us to do it.  I’m afraid we are men more of action than of art, literature, and the like.  Tremlidge is, I know.  He wants facts, accomplished results.  When he gives out his money he wants to see the concrete, substantial return—­and I’m not sure that I am not of the same way of thinking.

“Well, with this and with that, and after talking it all over a dozen times—­twenty times—­we came to the conclusion that what we would most like to aid financially would be a successful attempt by an American-built ship, manned by American seamen, led by an American commander, to reach the North Pole.  We came to be very enthusiastic about our idea; but we want it American from start to finish.  We will start the subscription, and want to head the list with