Amos agreed with this project perfectly. He agreed that Wint was not the man for the job, that it would mean hard work, and difficulties; he thought Wint was wise not to attempt it. He offered to straighten out any tangle and free Wint from the obligations of the office; and he offered to lend Wint money that Wint might make a start elsewhere. His great complaisance angered Wint, so that he stubbornly declared that he would stick if every man in town urged him to go. On the morning of the day before he was to take office, he met Jack Routt uptown, and Jack took his arm. They walked together toward Jack’s office, and went in and sat down. It was evident that Routt had something on his mind. He talked of the weather, of Agnes, of Joan; and Wint, watching him, saw that Routt was holding something back, and at last asked impatiently: “Jack, what’s on your mind?” Routt looked surprised. “Why--nothing.” “Yes, there is.” Wint laughed at him. “What’s the matter? Open up.” Routt hesitated; but at last he said frankly: “Well, Wint, I was wondering....” “About what?” “Have you been hitting the booze lately?” Routt asked. Wint shook his head; his eyes hardened a little. Routt seemed pleased. He thrust out his hand. “I’m darned glad, Wint,” he said. “Congratulations! You ought to leave it alone. You’re right.” Wint flushed angrily. “I haven’t sworn off,” he said shortly. “It--just happens--” He stared at Routt. “You didn’t bring me up here to ask that?” “Yes, I did.” “Why?” Routt shifted in his chair and lighted a cigarette. “Never mind,” he said. “Forget it, Wint.” Wint laughed unpleasantly. “Come on. I’m a grown man. What’s eating you?” Routt lifted his shoulders. “Well--fact is, some of the boys wanted to get up a little supper to-night, at the lodge rooms, in honor of your--inaugural. I told them nothing doing. Said you were off the stuff. They didn’t believe it; and I promised to ask you.” Wint looked at him angrily. “You’re not my wet nurse, Jack. That supper idea tickles me. It’s on.” Routt protested. “No, Wint. I won’t stand for it. You’ve stayed off the stuff this long; and it’s the best thing for you. You can’t stop when you once start. So--leave it alone.” Wint got up hotly. “Go to the devil!” he snapped. “Don’t be an old woman. Who’s running the thing?” “Dick Hoover. But you leave it alone....” “Rats! Tell Dick I’ll be there. Or I’ll tell him myself.” Routt lifted his hands in surrender. “Oh--I’ll tell him,” he agreed. “But you’re a darned fool, Wint.” “Rats!” Wint repeated; and he grinned. He was unaccountably elated, as though he had shaken off restraining bonds. “Rats!” And he went out to the street with his head high. Routt picked up the telephone and called Hoover. He was smiling. CHAPTER V ALLIANCE Winthrop Chase, Senior, was thrown by his son’s election to the office he had counted as his own into a passion in which rage and humiliation were equally commingled.