“I thought the old rascal did it,” he said. “A well-planned bit of work, though.” THROUGH THE GATE OF HORN The young man’s face was pale. His jaw, hard-set in a grip of self-control, lent his clever, handsome features a suggestion of force remarkable for his twenty-two years. At maturity, his intellect, backed by so much character, would be formidable. He turned to the window, stared out of it for a long moment. Then he switched round upon the girl. “So that’s your last word, Betty?--Finish?” Her eyes dropped under his, were raised again in a volition which dared to match itself, though she was tremulous with the effort, against the challenge of his voice. Their blue depths were charmingly sincere. “I cannot help myself, Jack.” She shook her head pathetically. “You ought to understand.” His voice came grimly, with intent to wound. “You are selling yourself to James Arrowsmith. Yes, I understand.” She shuddered, turned away her head in despair of sympathetic comprehension. There was a silence during which both gazed down vistas of gloomy thought. Then she looked up again, diffidently venturing another appeal to his magnanimity. “You know Father’s position----” He nodded, sardonically. “I know. He thinks his business is safe if James Arrowsmith is his son-in-law instead of merely his go-ahead competitor. He’s wrong. Arrowsmith would cut his own brother’s throat if he met him on a dark road and thought he had a dollar in his pocket. He’s just a modern brigand!” The girl sighed. “What can I do, Jack?--Father----” He blazed out in a sudden fury. “Oh, yes, I know! Father! I can’t help your father being a fool! It’s not my fault that he can’t recognize potentiality in a man--that he is only capable of appreciating a success that is already made, which he can measure by a balance in a bank! Give me ten years--I’ll eat up James Arrowsmith!” The girl shook her head sadly. “Ten years, Jack--it’s a long time ahead. We have got to deal with things as they are to-day. And to-day----” “I’m nothing!” he said, bitterly. She looked up at him. “You are just a promising young man fresh from college, Jack! With a big future before you, I am sure of that--but it’s only a future!” “I’ve started, anyway!” he exclaimed. “I’ve got that job on the _Rostrum_--begin next week. And I’m going to make good!” “Of course you are--but--we can’t marry on your pay as a very junior sub-editor.” She shook her head again. “We must be reasonable, Jack. If I saw any chance----” “Yes,” he interrupted, brutally, “if you saw any chance of my driving you about in six months’ time in a big motor-car like James Arrowsmith’s--then you would condescend to love me!” She stood up, her eyes filled with tears.