The one side of the matter that began to concern Raymond was the money side. Albert cost at school, and was going to cost more at college. His father began to economize. For instance, he cut off, this spring, the contribution which he had been making for years in support of an organization of reformers that had been working for civic betterment. These men, considering their small number and their limited resources had done wonders in raising the tone and quality of the local administration. The city's reputation, outside, had become respectable. But a sag had begun to show itself--the relapse that is pretty certain to follow on an extreme and perhaps overstrained endeavor. The little band needed money. Raymond was urged to reconsider and to continue--the upgrade would soon be reached again. Raymond sent, reluctantly, a smaller amount and asked why the net for contributions was not cast a little wider. He even suggested a few names. Whether he mentioned the name of John W. McComas I do not know, but McComas was given an opportunity to help. "See what they've sent me," he said to me one day on the street. He smiled over the urgent, fervid phrases of the appeal. The world, so far as he was concerned, was going very well. It didn't need improvement; and if it did, he hadn't the time to improve it. "They appear to be losing their grip," he added. "They didn't do very well last election, anyhow." I sensed his reluctance to be associated with a cause that seemed to be a losing one. "Well, I don't know," I said. "I'm giving something myself; and if I can afford to, you can." But he developed no interest. He sent a check absurdly disproportionate to his capacity (he was embarrassed, I am glad to say, when he mentioned later the amount); and I incline to think that even this bit was done almost out of a personal regard for me. Raymond cut a part of his own contribution out of Albert's allowance, and there was better reason than ever why Albert should not take a long trip for only four or five days at home. IV It is tiresome, I know, to read about municipal reform; most of us want the results and not the process--and some of us not even the results. And it is no less tiresome to read about investments, unless we are dealing with some young knight of finance who strives successfully for his lady's favor and who, successful, lives with her ever after in the style to which her father has accustomed her. But in the case of a maladroit man of fifty.... I had asked Raymond to call on me with any new scheme that was taking his attention, and one forenoon he walked in. He had an envelope of loose papers. He laid some of them on my desk and thumbed a few others with an undecided expression. "What do you think of this?" he asked. "I've got to have more money, and here's something that may bring it in."