The Call of the Cumberlands

"I have come, not to quarrel with you, but to try to dissuade you."

The Honorable Mr. Wickliffe bit savagely at his cigar, and gave a

despairing spread to his well-manicured hands. "You stand in danger of

becoming the most cordially hated man in New York--hated by the most

powerful combinations in New York."

Wilfred Horton leaned back in a swivel chair, and put his feet up on

his desk. For a while, he seemed interested in his own silk socks.

"It's very kind of you to warn me," he said, quietly.

The Honorable Mr. Wickliffe rose in exasperation, and paced the floor.

The smoke from his black cigar went before him in vicious puffs.

Finally, he stopped, and leaned glaring on the table.

"Your family has always been conservative. When you succeeded to the

fortune, you showed no symptoms of this mania. In God's name, what has

changed you?"

"I hope I have grown up," explained the young man, with an unruffled

smile. "One can't wear swaddling clothes forever, you know."

The attorney for an instant softened his manner as he looked into the

straight-gazing, unafraid eyes of his client.

"I've known you from your babyhood. I advised your father before you

were born. You have, by the chance of birth, come into the control of

great wealth. The world of finance is of delicate balance. Squabbles in

certain directorates may throw the Street into panic. Suddenly, you

emerge from decent quiet, and run amuck in the china-shop, bellowing

and tossing your horns. You make war on those whose interests are your

own. You seem bent on hari-kari. You have toys enough to amuse you. Why

couldn't you stay put?"

"They weren't the right things. They were, as you say, toys." The

smile faded and Horton's chin set itself for a moment, as he added: "If you don't think I'm going to stay put--watch me."

"Why do you have to make war--to be chronically insurgent?"

"Because"--the young man, who had waked up, spoke slowly--"I am

reading a certain writing on the wall. The time is not far off when,

unless we regulate a number of matters from within, we shall be

regulated from without. Then, instead of giving the financial body a

little griping in its gold-lined tummy, which is only the salutary

effect of purging, a surgical operation will be required. It will be

something like one they performed on the body politic of France not so

long ago. Old Dr. Guillotine officiated. It was quite a successful

operation, though the patient failed to rally."