Mr. Flint’s nature was not an introspective one, and if he had tried, he could not have accounted for his feelings.  He was angry—­that was certain.  But he measured the six feet and more of Austen Vane with his eye, and in spite of himself experienced the compelled admiration of one fighting man for another.  A thought, which had made itself vaguely felt at intervals in the past half hour, shot suddenly and poignantly through Mr. Flint’s mind what if this young man, who dared in spite of every interest to oppose him, should in the apparently inevitable trend of things, become...?

Mr. Flint rose and went to the window, where he stood silent for a space, looking out, played upon by unwonted conflicting thoughts and emotions.  At length, with a characteristic snap of the fingers, he turned abruptly.  Austen Vane was still standing beside the desk.  His face was still square, determined, but Mr. Flint noted curiously that the anger was gone from his eyes, and that another—­although equally human—­expression had taken its place,—­a more disturbing expression, to Mr. Flint.

“It appears, Mr. Vane,” he said, gathering up the papers and placing them in the boxes, “it appears that we are able to agree upon one point, at least—­Hilary Vane.”

“Mr. Flint,” said Austen, “I did not come up here with any thought of arguing with you, of intruding any ideas—­I may hold, but you have yourself asked me one question which I feel bound to answer to the best of my ability before I go.  You have asked me what, in my opinion, would happen if you ceased—­as you express it—­to take an interest in the political, affairs of this State.

“I believe, as firmly as I stand here, that the public opinion which exists to-day would protect your property, and I base that belief on the good sense of the average American voter.  The public would protect you not only in its own interests, but from an inherent sense of fair play.  On the other hand, if you persist in a course of political manipulation which is not only obsolete but wrong, you will magnify the just charges against you, and the just wrath; you will put ammunition into the hands of the agitators you rightly condemn.  The stockholders of your corporation, perhaps, are bound to suffer some from the fact that you have taken its life-blood to pay dividends, and the public will demand that it be built up into a normal and healthy condition.  On the other hand, it could not have gone on as it was.  But the corporation will suffer much more if a delayed justice is turned into vengeance.

“You ask me what I could do.  I should recognize, frankly, the new conditions, and declare as frankly what the old ones were, and why such methods of defence as you adopted were necessary and justified.  I should announce, openly, that from this day onward the Northeastern Railroads depended for fair play on an enlightened public—­and I think your trust would be well founded, and your course vindicated.