"Of course, you have," I said cordially. "It's silly to fight the push, isn't it? It's only the cranks that get cocky and think they can upset the fellows on top. The thing to do is to find out which is the stronger--if you're a better man than the other fellow, down him. If he's the champion, enlist under him. But be in it. What's the use of being a kicker all your life? You only let some one else come in for the soft things, while you stay outside and gnaw your finger-nails and plot and plan and starve. You spend your life hoping to live to-morrow, while the Tausigs are living high to-day. The thing to do is to be humble if you can't be arrogant. If they've got you in the door, don't curse, but placate them. Think of Gaffney herding sheep out in Nevada; of Iringer in the asylum; of Howison--" "Admirable! admirable!" he interrupted sarcastically. "The only fault I have to find with your harangue is that you've misconceived my meaning entirely. But I needn't enlighten you. Good morning, Miss Olden--good-by." He turned to his desk and pulled out some papers. I knew he wasn't so desperately absorbed in them as he pretended to be. "Won't you shake hands," I asked, "and wish me luck?" He put down his pen. His face was white and hard, but as he looked at me it gradually softened. "I suppose--I suppose, I am a bit unreasonable just this minute," he said slowly. "I'm hard hit and--and I don't just know the way out. Still, I haven't any right to--to expect more of you than there is in you, you poor little thing! It's not your fault, but mine, that I've expected--Oh, for God's sake--Nance--go, and leave me alone!" I had to take that with me to the Van Twiller, and it wasn't pleasant. But Tausig received me with open arms. "Got tired of staying out in the cold--eh?" he grinned. "I'm tired of vaudeville," I answered. "Can't you give me a chance in a comedy?" "Hm! Ambitious, ain't you?" "Obermuller has a play all ready for me--written for me. He'd star me fast enough if he had the chance." "But he'll never get the chance." "Oh, I don't know." "But I do. He's on the toboggan; that's where they all get, my dear, when they get big-headed enough to fight us." "But Obermuller's not like the others. He's not so easy. And he is so clever; why, the plot of that comedy is the bulliest thing--" "You've read it--you remember it?" "Oh, I know it by heart--my part of it. You see, he wouldn't keep away from me while he was thinking of it. He kept consulting me about everything in it. In a way, we worked over it together." The little man looked at me, slowly closing one eye. It is a habit of his when he's going to do something particularly nasty. "Then, in a way, as you say, it is part yours." "Hardly! Imagine Nance Olden writing a line of a play!"