something mysterious and important about to happen. With the exception of his father who had infinite faith in the shrewdness and ability of his son, the men he wanted to impress were only amused. One day Thomas Butterworth went into the bank and stood talking the matter over with John Clark. " The young squirt was always a Smart-Aleck and a blow- hard," he said. " What's he up to now? What's he nudging and whispering about? " As he walked in the main street of Bidwell, Steve began to acquire that air of superiority that later made him so respected and feared. He hurried along with a peculiarly intense absorbed look in his eyes. He saw his fellow townsmen as through a haze, and sometimes did not see them at all. As he went along he took papers from his pocket, read them hurriedly, and then quickly put them away again. When he did speak perhaps to a man who had known him from boyhood there was in his manner something gracious to the edge of condescension. One morning in March he met Zebe Wilson the town shoemaker on the sidewalk be- fore the post-office. Steve stopped and smiled. ' Well, good morning, Mr. Wilson," he said, " and how is the quality of leather you are getting from the tanneries now? " Word regarding this strange salutation ran about among the merchants and artisans. " What's he up to now?" they asked each other. "Mr. Wilson, in- deed! Now what's wrong between that young squirt and Zebe Wilson? " In the afternoon, four clerks from the Main Street stores and Ed Hall the carpenter's apprentice, who had a half day off because of rain, decided to investi-
