“His home took fire one night and burned to the ground. By decree of his Imperial master he was not permitted to build a dwelling on his own land. He loved this land, poor fool. His wife and babies loved it. He couldn’t be dragged away. He took refuge in a barn. Through the summer they managed to live without a fire inside. They cooked in the open. But when the winter came and the snows fell, he was forced to smuggle a little stove into the barn to boil some eggs and cabbage and make tea for his children. He hid the stove in a deep hole under the floor. Ten days later an officer of the Imperial government, passing, saw the smoke, forced his way in and uncovered the secret. The stove had made the barn a dwelling and he had forfeited his estate and his liberty. He fought--as any man with a soul must fight--for his own! The end was sure. He shot the officer. But there were legions of these Imperial soldiers. They assaulted his frail barricade and riddled his body with bullets. His faithful wife died with him. And little Zonia and Marya were sent to me in free America. And so you see I lack faith in some men--” He stopped abruptly at the sight of Waldron’s heavy face with its arctic smile. The millionaire lifted his hat, bowed slightly and disappeared from the doorway. “Come with me to Mr. Waldron’s house, we must have a final conference there--” “Waldron’s house?” he asked incredulously. “Certainly. His library has become our campaign headquarters--” “You’ll have to excuse me--” “But I won’t excuse you. We’re going to fight this thing out today.” “I’ve nothing to say to Waldron.” “But he has something very important to say to you--” “All right--he knows where I live--” Virginia laid her hand on his arm in a gesture of appeal that was resistless. “Won’t you come with me?” The frown slowly faded, and he smiled an answer. “With you--yes.” CHAPTER X Billy volunteered to take the children home, Vassar waved his farewell to the crowd and hurried to the waiting automobile. Virginia presented him to the banker. “Our irreconcilable foe, Mr. Waldron!” The millionaire merely touched his hat with the barest suggestion of a military salute and Vassar bowed. It was not until they were seated in the car that Waldron spoke--the same cold smile about his lips. “I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time, Mr. Vassar--” “I’m surprised to hear that,” was the light reply. “Our views could hardly be the same on any subject within my scope of knowledge--” Waldron smiled patronizingly. “Anyhow, let us hope that we’ll get together today--” “We must,” Virginia responded. The one thing Vassar couldn’t endure was patronage. The tone Waldron assumed was offensive beyond endurance. If he tried it again the young leader had made up his mind to find an excuse, stop the car and go back to his office.