“Maybe he didn’t,” persisted Mrs. Lee.  She was a grateful soul, and, even if capable of small and petty acts, was of fine grain enough to bear no rancor towards the discoverer of them; but the other woman was built on a different plan.

“I don’t take any stock in him at all,” she said, with a species of delight.  She looked out of the small, rear window of the coach as she spoke.  “He’s going to Port Willis,” she said.  “He’s getting in the trolley-car.”

Samson Rawdy also turned his head and saw with a strained side glance Carroll getting into the Port Willis trolley-car.  Then he said:  “G’lang!” to his horses, and they turned a corner with a fine sweep, while the ladies began getting their cards ready.

“I wonder what he’s going to Port Willis for,” said Mrs. Van Dorn, reflectively and malignantly.  “I suppose he’s looking out for somebody to cheat over there.”

“Well, I pity him, poor man!” said Mrs. Lee.  “If a man does cheat other folks, he can’t do it without cheating himself worst of all, and it always turns out so in the end.”

As is often the way with a simple tongue, hers spoke more wisdom that it wot of.  It was indeed quite true that poor Arthur Carroll, seating himself in the Port Willis trolley-car, had in the bitter end cheated himself worse than he had any of his creditors.  He was more largely in his own debt than in that of any other man; he had, in reality, less of that of which he had cheated than had any of his victims.  Hardly one of them all was in such sore straits as he, for in addition to his immediate personal necessities there was always the incubus of the debts.  And he was starting forth upon this trip with the purpose in his overstrained, distorted brain of spending his last reserve, and incurring a debt to himself which should never be paid to all eternity.

Carroll seated himself in the car, which was already quite well filled; there was not much time to spare before its scheduled departure.  He found a corner seat empty, and settled himself into it with a bitter little sense of self-gratulation for at least that minor alleviation of the situation.  The corner seat in a Port Willis trolley-car had distinct advantages aside from the physical comfort, owing to the frequent crowding and the uncertain nature of the component elements of the crowd.

Carroll settled back in his corner and surveyed his fellow-passengers, waiting with a kind of stupid patience for the starting of the car.  There was a curious look of indifference to remaining or going, on most of the faces, the natural result of the universality of travel in America, the being always on the road for all classes in order to cover the enormous distances in this great country between home and work or amusement.  All excitement over the mere act of transit has passed; there is stolidity and acquiescence as to delays and speed, unless there are great interests at stake.  As a rule, the people in the Port Willis trolley-car