While all this was going forward Lester was completely in the dark. His trip to Europe prevented him from seeing three or four minor notices in the newspapers of some of the efforts that were being made to unite the various carriage and wagon manufactories. He returned to Chicago to learn that Jefferson Midgely, Imogene’s husband, was still in full charge of the branch and living in Evanston, but because of his quarrel with his family he was in no position to get the news direct. Accident brought it fast enough, however, and that rather irritatingly. The individual who conveyed this information was none other than Mr. Henry Bracebridge, of Cleveland, into whom he ran at the Union Club one evening after he had been in the city a month. “I hear you’re out of the old company,” Bracebridge remarked, smiling blandly. “Yes,” said Lester, “I’m out.” “What are you up to now?” “Oh, I have a deal of my own under consideration, I’m thinking something of handling an independent concern.” “Surely you won’t run counter to your brother? He has a pretty good thing in that combination of his.” “Combination! I hadn’t heard of it,” said Lester. “I’ve just got back from Europe.” “Well, you want to wake up, Lester,” replied Bracebridge. “He’s got the biggest thing in your line. I thought you knew all about it. The Lyman-Winthrop Company, the Myer-Brooks Company, the Woods Company—in fact, five or six of the big companies are all in. Your brother was elected president of the new concern. I dare say he cleaned up a couple of millions out of the deal.” Lester stared. His glance hardened a little. “Well, that’s fine for Robert. I’m glad of it.” Bracebridge could see that he had given him a vital stab. “Well, so long, old man,” he exclaimed. “When you’re in Cleveland look us up. You know how fond my wife is of you.” “I know,” replied Lester. “By-by.” He strolled away to the smoking-room, but the news took all the zest out of his private venture. Where would he be with a shabby little wagon company and his brother president of a carriage trust? Good heavens! Robert could put him out of business in a year. Why, he himself had dreamed of such a combination as this. Now his brother had done it.