He began to try flyers on his own hook; he gathered many rake-offs of which he said nothing to his mentor; he drank a little more and splurged a little more and looked a little more like a bulldog and less like a man. That the spirit of rebellion was growing up and that the pawn began to take credit to itself for the position of power in which it was placed, came gradually home to Mr. Murdock. It made him at first annoyed, then anxious. So it was that the confidence bred from years of business coöperation drove him this night to look up his old partner. "Evening, Early," he said as the door closed behind him. "Beastly cold night out. Wish you'd order me a little something hot to induce me to stay by this comfortable fire of yours." Mr. Early waved his hand toward a chair and settled himself without ceremony. There was this comfort in Murdock: they had known each other too long for pose, and, though the old hook-and-eye partnership was dissolved, and Mr. Early had soared into the realms of Art, they were still closely bound by common interests. So Sebastian met him with cheerful resignation. "Sit down, Jim," he said. "I don't mind a nip myself. What's up?" "What's down, you'd better ask. Lord save us! What's that?" exclaimed Mr. Murdock, as he caught sight of the lurid lady lying amid the litter on the table. "That's the cover of my next magazine. Never mind it. It's not in your line." "Well, I should say not," said the other with a slow grin. "I've been pretty much vituperated for some of my business deals, but I never sprung a thing like that on the public. 'Forget thyself!' That's good, Early." He winked a wink that came more from the soul than from the eye. "Oh, drop it, Jim," said Mr. Early, relapsing into the old vernacular. "I'm sick of everything to-night. Here's your cocktail. Help yourself to a cigar." "You ought to get married, instead of sitting here with the blues all by yourself. Tell you, a warm little wife is a nice thing to come home to." "Thank you, Jim," said Mr. Early dryly. They sank into silence, a comfortable silence, permeated with the fragrance of tobacco, with warmth in the cardiac region, and with that crackle of burning logs that satisfieth the soul. But occasionally Mr. Early shot a sharp glance at his companion, and his study did not reassure him. At last he spoke. "Well, out with it, Jim. It's evident that you've something on your mind." "You're right, I have," said Murdock with sudden emphasis. "I don't know whether you can help me, but it's second nature for me to try you. I'm getting anxious about Barry and affairs connected with him." "What about Barry? I thought you had him in your pocket." "Oh, I've still got him in the pocket over my heart, and buttoned down tight," said Mr. Murdock grimly. "It's because he belongs to me that I'm looking out for him." "Well," said Mr. Early, and he leaned forward nervously to poke the fire that needed no poking.