And yet, as is often the case in carefully designed affairs, the one

element that made most powerfully for the success of Farbish's scheme

was pure accident. The carefully arranged meeting between the two men,

the adroitly incited passions of each, would still have brought no

clash, had not Wilfred Horton been affected by the flushing effect of

alcohol. Since his college days, he had been invariably abstemious.

To-night marked an exception.

He was rather surprised at the cordiality of the welcome accorded him,

for, as chance would have it, except for Samson South, whom he had not

yet seen, all the other sportsmen were men closely allied to the

political and financial elements upon which he had been making war.

Still, since they seemed willing to forget for the time that there had

been a breach, he was equally so. Just now, he was feeling such

bitterness for the Kentuckian that the foes of a less-personal sort

seemed unimportant.

In point of fact, Wilfred Horton had spent a very bad day. The final

straw had broken the back of his usually unruffled temper, when he had

found in his room on reaching the Kenmore a copy of a certain New York

weekly paper, and had read a page, which chanced to be lying face up (a

chance carefully prearranged). It was an item of which Farbish had

known, in advance of publication, but Wilfred would never have seen

that sheet, had it not been so carefully brought to his attention.

There were hints of the strange infatuation which a certain young woman

seemed to entertain for a partially civilized stranger who had made his

entrée to New York via the Police Court, and who wore his hair

long in imitation of a Biblical character of the same name. The supper

at the Wigwam Inn was mentioned, and the character of the place

intimated. Horton felt this objectionable innuendo was directly

traceable to Adrienne's ill-judged friendship for the mountaineer, and

he bitterly blamed the mountaineer. And, while he had been brooding on

these matters, a man acting as Farbish's ambassador had dropped into

his room, since Farbish himself knew that Horton would not listen to

his confidences. The delegated spokesman warned Wilfred that Samson

South had spoken pointedly of him, and advised cautious conduct, in a

fashion calculated to inflame.

Samson, it was falsely alleged, had accused him of saying derogatory

things in his absence, which he would hardly venture to repeat in his

presence. In short, it was put up to Horton to announce his opinion

openly, or eat the crow of cowardice.

That evening, when Samson went to his room, Farbish joined him.




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