Humphrey waved a hand at the machinery. 'All this. And my library upstairs. They've stood me more'n four thousand, altogether. Ought to fetch something.' 'But--but--ten thousand!' Henry whispered the amount with awe as well as misery. 'Oh, _that!_ Your trouble! Why, you'll sleep over that, too, and to-morrow I suppose you'll talk to Harry Davis's father.' The senior Davis, Arthur P., was a Simpson Street lawyer. 'They'll sting you. But they don't expect any ten thousand.' 'But what I said is _true!_ Charlie Waterhouse is a----' 'What's that got to do with it. You can't prove it. And we aren't strong enough to hire counsel and detectives and run him to earth. Doesn't look as if we had the barest breath of life in us. Charlie'll think of your uncle next, and attach your mother's estate.' He said this with unusual roughness. Then he went upstairs; stamped around for a brief time; came hurrying down. Henry, now, was sitting dejectedly on a work-bench. 'Hump--please!--you don't know how I feel. I----' 'And,' replied the senior partner, 'I don't care. I don't care how I feel, either. We either save the paper this week or we don't. That's what I care about right now.' 'I--I won't let you sell your things, Hump.' An unconvincing assertion, from the limp figure on the bench. 'You?' Humphrey stared at him with something near contempt--stared at the moustache and the cane. 'You? You won't let me?... For God's sake, _shut up!_' With which he went out, slamming the door. For a time Henry continued to sit there. Then he dragged himself upstairs, went to his bookcase and got the book entitled _Will Power and Self Mastery_. He turned the pages until he hit upon these paragraphs:--'Every machine, every cathedral, every great ship was a thought before it could become a fact. Build in your brain. 'Through the all-enveloping ether drifts the invisible electricity that is all life, all energy. Open yourself to it. Make yourself a conductor. Stupidity and fear are resistants; cast these out. Make your brain a dynamo and drive the world.' This seemed a good idea. 4 Arthur P. Davis was just rising from the supper table when the door-bell rang. He answered it himself; found young Calverly there, in a state of haggard but vigorous youthful intensity. He contrived, after a slight initial difficulty, to draw out of the curiously verbose youth the essential facts. He considered the matter with a deliberation and caution that appeared irritating to the boy. But he had read and (in the bosom of his family) chuckled over _Sinbad the Treasurer_. He had wondered a little, though he didn't mention the fact to Henry, whether Charlie wouldn't sue. Charlie had a case. When Henry left, clearly still in a confused condition, it was Mr Davis's impression that Henry had placed the matter in his hands as counsel and further had distinctly agreed to shut his head.