The Lion and The Mouse: A Story Of American Life

by Charles Klein and Arthur Hornblow

  CHAPTER XVI

  When Shirley reached her rooms she broke down completely, shethrew herself upon a sofa and burst into a fit of violent sobbing.After all, she was only a woman and the ordeal through which shehad passed would have taxed the strongest powers of endurance. Shehad borne up courageously while there remained the faintest chancethat she might succeed in moving the financier to pity, but nowthat all hopes in that direction were shattered and she herselfhad been ordered harshly from the house like any ordinarymalefactor, the reaction set in, and she gave way freely to herlong pent-up anguish and distress. Nothing now could save herfather--not even this journey to Washington which she determinedto take nevertheless, for, according to what Stott had said, theSenate was to take a vote that very night.

  She looked at the time--eleven o'clock. She had told Mr. Ryderthat she would leave his house at once, but on reflection it wasimpossible for a girl alone to seek a room at that hour. It wouldbe midnight before she could get her things packed. No, she wouldstay under this hated roof until morning and then take the firsttrain to Washington. There was still a chance that the vote mightbe delayed, in which case she might yet succeed in winning oversome of the senators. She began to gather her things together andwas thus engaged when she, heard a knock at her door.

  "Who's there?" she called out.

  "It's I," replied a familiar voice.

  Shirley went to the door and opening it found Jefferson on thethreshold. He made no attempt to enter, nor did she invite him in.He looked tired and careworn.

  "Of course, you're not going to-night?" he asked anxiously. "Myfather did not mean to-night."

  "No, Jeff," she said wearily; "not to-night. It's a little toolate. I did not realize it. To-morrow morning, early."

  He seemed reassured and held out his hand:

  "Good-night, dearest--you're a brave girl. You made a splendidfight."

  "It didn't do much good," she replied in a disheartened, listlessway.

  "But it set him thinking," rejoined Jefferson. "No one ever spoketo my father like that before. It did him good. He's stillmarching up and down the library, chewing the cud--"

  Noticing Shirley's tired face and her eyes, with great blackcircles underneath, he stopped short.

  "Now don't do any more packing to-night," he said. "Go to bed andin the morning I'll come up and help you. Good night!"

  "Good night, Jeff," she smiled.

  He went downstairs, and after doing some more packing she went tobed. But it was hours before she got to sleep, and then shedreamed that she was in the Senate Chamber and that she saw Rydersuddenly rise and denounce himself before the astonished senatorsas a perjurer and traitor to his country, while she returned toMassapequa with the glad news that her father was acquitted.

  Meantime, a solitary figure remained in the library, pacing to andfro like a lost soul in Purgatory. Mrs. Ryder had returned fromthe play and gone to bed, serenely oblivious of the drama in reallife that had been enacted at home, the servants locked the houseup for the night and still John Burkett Ryder walked the floor ofhis sanctum, and late into the small hours of the morning thewatchman going his lonely rounds, saw a light in the library andthe restless figure of his employer sharply silhouetted againstthe white blinds.

  For the first time in his life John Ryder realized that there wassomething in the world beyond Self. He had seen with his own eyesthe sacrifice a daughter will make for the father she loves, andhe asked himself what manner of a man that father could be toinspire such devotion in his child. He probed into his own heartand conscience and reviewed his past career. He had beenphenomenally successful, but he had not been happy. He had moremoney than he knew what to do with, but the pleasures of thedomestic circle, which he saw other men enjoy, had been denied tohim. Was he himself to blame? Had his insensate craving for goldand power led him to neglect those other things in life whichcontribute more truly to man's happiness? In other words, was hislife a mistake? Yes, it was true what this girl charged, he hadbeen merciless and unscrupulous in his dealings with his fellowman. It was true that hardly a dollar of his vast fortune had beenhonestly earned. It was true that it had been wrung from thepeople by fraud and trickery. He had craved for power, yet now hehad tasted it, what a hollow joy it was, after all! The publichated and despised him; even his so-called friends and businessassociates toadied to him merely because they feared him. And thisjudge--this father he had persecuted and ruined, what a better manand citizen he was, how much more worthy of a child's love and ofthe esteem of the world! What had Judge Rossmore done, after all,to deserve the frightful punishment the amalgamated interests hadcaused him to suffer? If he had blocked their game, he had doneonly what his oath, his duty commanded him to do. Such a girl asShirley Rossmore could not have had any other kind of a father.Ah, if he had had such a daughter he might have been a better man,if only to win his child's respect and affection. John Ryderpondered long and deeply and the more he ruminated the strongerthe conviction grew upon him that the girl was right and he waswrong. Suddenly, he looked at his watch. It was one o'clock.Roberts had told him that it would be an all night session andthat a vote would probably not be taken until very late. Heunhooked the telephone and calling "central" asked for "longdistance" and connection with Washington.

  It was seven o'clock when the maid entered Shirley's room with herbreakfast and she found its occupant up and dressed.

  "Why you haven't been to bed, Miss!" exclaimed the girl, lookingat the bed in the inner room which seemed scarcely disturbed.

  "No, Theresa I--I couldn't sleep." Hastily pouring out a cup oftea she added. "I must catch that nine o'clock train toWashington. I didn't finish packing until nearly three."

  "Can I do anything for you, Miss?" inquired the maid. Shirley wasas popular with the servants as with the rest of the household.

  "No," answered Shirley, "there are only a few things to go in mysuit case. Will you please have a cab here in half an hour?"

  The maid was about to go when she suddenly thought of somethingshe had forgotten. She held out an envelope which she had leftlying on the tray.

  "Oh, Miss, Mr. Jorkins said to give you this and master wanted tosee you as soon as you had finished your breakfast."

  Shirley tore open the envelope and took out the contents. It was acheque, payable to her order for $5,000 and signed "John BurkettRyder."

  A deep flush covered the girl's face as she saw the money--a flushof annoyance rather than of pleasure. This man who had insultedher, who had wronged her father, who had driven her from his home,thought he could throw his gold at her and insolently send her herpay as one settles haughtily with a servant discharged forimpertinence. She would have none of his money--the work she haddone she would make him a present of. She replaced the cheque inthe envelope and passed it back to Theresa.

  "Give this to Mr. Ryder and tell him I cannot see him."

  "But Mr. Ryder said--" insisted the girl.

  "Please deliver my message as I give it," commanded Shirley withauthority. "I cannot see Mr. Ryder."

  The maid withdrew, but she had barely closed the door when it wasopened again and Mrs. Ryder rushed in, without knocking. She wasall flustered with excitement and in such a hurry that she had noteven stopped to arrange her toilet.

  "My dear Miss Green," she gasped; "what's this I hear--going awaysuddenly without giving me warning?"

  "I wasn't engaged by the month," replied Shirley drily.

  "I know, dear, I know. I was thinking of myself. I've grown soused to you--how shall I get on without you--no one understands methe way you do. Dear me! The whole house is upset. Mr. Ryder neverwent to bed at all last night. Jefferson is going away,too--forever, he threatens. If he hadn't come and woke me up tosay good-bye, I should never have known you intended to leave us.My boy's going--you're going--everyone's deserting me!"

  Mrs. Ryder was not accustomed to such prolonged flights of oratoryand she sank exhausted on a chair, her eyes filling with tears.

  "Did they tell you
who I am--the daughter of Judge Rossmore?"demanded Shirley.

  It had been a shock to Mrs. Ryder that morning when Jeffersonburst into his mother's room before she was up and acquainted herwith the events of the previous evening. The news that the MissGreen whom she had grown to love, was really the Miss Rossmore ofwhose relations with Jefferson her husband stood in such dread,was far from affecting the financier's wife as it had Ryderhimself. To the mother's simple and ingenuous mind, free fromprejudice and ulterior motive, the girl's character was moreimportant than her name, and certainly she could not blame her sonfor loving such a woman as Shirley. Of course, it was unfortunatefor Jefferson that his father felt this bitterness towards JudgeRossmore, for she herself could hardly have wished for a moresympathetic daughter-in-law. She had not seen her husband sincethe previous evening at dinner so was in complete ignorance as towhat he thought of this new development, but the mother sighed asshe thought how happy it would make her to see Jefferson happilymarried to the girl of his own choice, and in her heart she stillentertained the hope that her husband would see it that way andthus prevent their son from leaving them as he threatened.

  "That's not your fault, my dear," she replied answering Shirley'squestion. "You are yourself--that's the main thing. You mustn'tmind what Mr. Ryder says? Business and worry makes him irritableat times. If you must go, of course you must--you are the bestjudge of that, but Jefferson wants to see you before you leave."She kissed Shirley in motherly fashion, and added: "He has told meeverything, dear. Nothing would make me happier than to see youbecome his wife. He's downstairs now waiting for me to tell him tocome up."

  "It's better that I should not see him," replied Shirley slowlyand gravely. "I can only tell him what I have already told him. Myfather comes first. I have still a duty to perform."

  "That's right, dear," answered Mrs. Ryder. "You're a good, noblegirl and I admire you all the more for it. I'll let Jefferson behis own advocate. You'll see him for my sake!"

  She gave Shirley another affectionate embrace and left the roomwhile the girl proceeded with her final preparations fordeparture. Presently there was a quick, heavy step in the corridoroutside and Jefferson appeared in the doorway. He stood therewaiting for her to invite him in. She looked up and greeted himcordially, yet it was hardly the kind of reception he looked foror that he considered he had a right to expect. He advancedsulkily into the room.

  "Mother said she had put everything right," he began. "I guess shewas mistaken."

  "Your mother does not understand, neither do you," she repliedseriously. "Nothing can be put right until my father is restoredto honour and position."

  "But why should you punish me because my father fails to regardthe matter as we do?" demanded Jefferson rebelliously.

  "Why should I punish myself--why should we punish those nearestand dearest?" answered Shirley gently, "the victims of humaninjustice always suffer where their loved ones are tortured. Whyare things as they are--I don't know. I know they are--that'sall."

  The young man strode nervously up and down the room while shegazed listlessly out of the window, looking for the cab that wasto carry her away from this house of disappointment. He pleadedwith her:

  "I have tried honourably and failed--you have tried honourably andfailed. Isn't the sting of impotent failure enough to meet withoutstriving against a hopeless love?" He approached her and saidsoftly: "I love you Shirley--don't drive me to desperation. Must Ibe punished because you have failed? It's unfair. The sins of thefathers should not be visited upon the children."

  "But they are--it's the law," said Shirley with resignation.

  "The law?" he echoed.

  "Yes, the law," insisted the girl; "man's law, not God's, the sameunjust law that punishes my father--man's law which is put intothe hands of the powerful of the earth to strike at the weak."

  She sank into a chair and, covering up her face, wept bitterly.Between her sobs she cried brokenly:

  "I believed in the power of love to soften your father's heart, Ibelieved that with God's help I could bring him to see the truth.I believed that Truth and Love would make him see the light, butit hasn't. I stayed on and on, hoping against hope until the timehas gone by and it's too late to save him, too late! What can I donow? My going to Washington is a forlorn hope, a last, miserable,forlorn hope and in this hour, the darkest of all, you ask me tothink of myself--my love, your love, your happiness, your future,my future! Ah, wouldn't it be sublime selfishness?"

  Jefferson kneeled down beside the chair and taking her hand inhis, tried to reason with her and comfort her:

  "Listen, Shirley," he said, "do not do something you will surelyregret. You are punishing me not only because I have failed butbecause you have failed too. It seems to me that if you believedit possible to accomplish so much, if you had so much faith--thatyou have lost your faith rather quickly. I believed in nothing, Ihad no faith and yet I have not lost hope."

  She shook her head and gently withdrew her hand.

  "It is useless to insist, Jefferson--until my father is cleared ofthis stain our lives--yours and mine--must lie apart."

  Someone coughed and, startled, they both looked up. Mr. Ryder hadentered the room unobserved and stood watching them. Shirleyimmediately rose to her feet indignant, resenting this intrusionon her privacy after she had declined to receive the financier.Yet, she reflected quickly, how could she prevent it? He was athome, free to come and go as he pleased, but she was not compelledto remain in the same room with him. She picked up the few thingsthat lay about and with a contemptuous toss of her head, retreatedinto the inner apartment, leaving father and son alone together.

  "Hum," grunted Ryder, Sr. "I rather thought I should find you here,but I didn't quite expect to find you on your knees--dragging ourpride in the mud."

  "That's where our pride ought to be," retorted Jefferson savagely.He felt in the humor to say anything, no matter what theconsequences.

  "So she has refused you again, eh?" said Ryder, Sr. with a grin.

  "Yes," rejoined Jefferson with growing irritation, "she objects tomy family. I don't blame her."

  The financier smiled grimly as he answered:

  "Your family in general--me in particular, eh? I gleaned that muchwhen I came in." He looked towards the door of the room in whichShirley had taken refuge and as if talking to himself he added: "Acurious girl with an inverted point of view--sees everythingdifferent to others--I want to see her before she goes."

  He walked over to the door and raised his hand as if he were aboutto knock. Then he stopped as if he had changed his mind andturning towards his son he demanded:

  "Do you mean to say that she has done with you?"

  "Yes," answered Jefferson bitterly.

  "Finally?"

  "Yes, finally--forever!"

  "Does she mean it?" asked Ryder, Sr., sceptically.

  "Yes--she will not listen to me while her father is still inperil."

  There was an expression of half amusement, half admiration on thefinancier's face as he again turned towards the door.

  "It's like her, damn it, just like her!" he muttered.

  He knocked boldly at the door.

  "Who's there?" cried Shirley from within.

  "It is I--Mr. Ryder. I wish to speak to you."

  "I must beg you to excuse me," came the answer, "I cannot seeyou."

  Jefferson interfered.

  "Why do you want to add to the girl's misery? Don't you think shehas suffered enough?"

  "Do you know what she has done?" said Ryder with pretendedindignation. "She has insulted me grossly. I never was sohumiliated in my life. She has returned the cheque I sent her lastnight in payment for her work on my biography. I mean to make hertake that money. It's hers, she needs it, her father's a beggar.She must take it back. It's only flaunting her contempt for me inmy face and I won't permit it."

  [Photo, from the play, of Mr. Ryder holding out a cheque to Shirley.]

  "So I contaminate even good money?"--Act IV.<
br />
  "I don't think her object in refusing that money was to flauntcontempt in your face, or in any way humiliate you," answeredJefferson. "She feels she has been sailing under false colours anddesires to make some reparation."

  "And so she sends me back my money, feeling that will pacify me,perhaps repair the injury she has done me, perhaps buy me intoentering into her plan of helping her father, but it won't. Itonly increases my determination to see her and her--" Suddenlychanging the topic he asked: "When do you leave us?"

  "Now--at once--that is--I--don't know," answered Jeffersonembarrassed. "The fact is my faculties are numbed--I seem to havelost my power of thinking. Father," he exclaimed, "you see what awreck you have made of our lives!"

  "Now, don't moralize," replied his father testily, "as if your ownselfishness in desiring to possess that girl wasn't the mainspringof all your actions!" Waving his son out of the room he added:"Now leave me alone with her for a few moments. Perhaps I can makeher listen to reason."

  Jefferson stared at his father as if he feared he were out of hismind.

  "What do you mean? Are you--?" he ejaculated.

  "Go--go leave her to me," commanded the financier. "Slam the doorwhen you go out and she'll think we've both gone. Then come upagain presently."

  The stratagem succeeded admirably. Jefferson gave the door avigorous pull and John Ryder stood quiet, waiting for the girl toemerge from sanctuary. He did not have to wait long. The door soonopened and Shirley came out slowly. She had her hat on and wasdrawing on her gloves, for through her window she had caught aglimpse of the cab standing at the curb. She started on seeingRyder standing there motionless, and she would have retreated hadhe not intercepted her.

  "I wish to speak to you Miss--Rossmore," he began.

  "I have nothing to say," answered Shirley frigidly.

  "Why did you do this?" he asked, holding out the cheque.

  "Because I do not want your money," she replied with hauteur.

  "It was yours--you earned it," he said.

  "No, I came here hoping to influence you to help my father. Thework I did was part of the plan. It happened to fall my way. Itook it as a means to get to your heart."

  "But it is yours, please take it. It will be useful."

  "No," she said scornfully, "I can't tell you how low I should fallin my own estimation if I took your money! Money," she added, withringing contempt, "why, that's all there is to _you!_ It's yourgod! Shall I make your god my god? No, thank you, Mr. Ryder!"

  "Am I as bad as that?" he asked wistfully.

  "You are as bad as that!" she answered decisively.

  "So bad that I contaminate even good money?" He spoke lightly butshe noticed that he winced.

  "Money itself is nothing," replied the girl, "it's the spirit thatgives it--the spirit that receives it, the spirit that earns it,the spirit that spends it. Money helps to create happiness. Italso creates misery. It's an engine of destruction when notproperly used, it destroys individuals as it does nations. It hasdestroyed you, for it has warped your soul!"

  "Go on," he laughed bitterly, "I like to hear you!"

  "No, you don't, Mr. Ryder, no you don't, for deep down in yourheart you know that I am speaking the truth. Money and the powerit gives you, has dried up the well-springs of your heart."

  He affected to be highly amused at her words, but behind the maskof callous indifference the man suffered. Her words seared him aswith a red hot iron. She went on:

  "In the barbaric ages they fought for possession, but they foughtopenly. The feudal barons fought for what they stole, but it was afair fight. They didn't strike in the dark. At least, they gave aman a chance for his life. But when you modern barons of industrydon't like legislation you destroy it, when you don't like yourjudges you remove them, when a competitor outbids you you squeezehim out of commercial existence! You have no hearts, you aremachines, and you are cowards, for you fight unfairly."

  "It is not true, it is not true," he protested.

  "It is true," she insisted hotly, "a few hours ago in cold bloodyou doomed my father to what is certain death because you decidedit was a political necessity. In other words he interfered withyour personal interests--your financial interests--you, with somany millions you can't count them!" Scornfully she added: "Comeout into the light--fight in the open! At least, let him know whohis enemy is!"

  "Stop--stop--not another word," he cried impatiently, "you havediagnosed the disease. What of the remedy? Are you prepared toreconstruct human nature?"

  Confronting each other, their eyes met and he regarded her withoutresentment, almost with tenderness. He felt strangely drawntowards this woman who had defied and accused him, and made himsee the world in a new light.

  "I don't deny," he admitted reluctantly, "that things seem to beas you describe them, but it is part of the process of evolution."

  "No," she protested, "it is the work of God!"

  "It is evolution!" he insisted.

  "Ah, that's it," she retorted, "you evolve new ideas, new schemes,new tricks--you all worship different gods--gods of your ownmaking!"

  He was about to reply when there was a commotion at the door andTheresa entered, followed by a man servant to carry down thetrunk.

  "The cab is downstairs, Miss," said the maid.

  Ryder waved them away imperiously. He had something further to saywhich he did not care for servants to hear. Theresa and the manprecipitately withdrew, not understanding, but obeying withalacrity a master who never brooked delay in the execution of hisorders. Shirley, indignant, looked to him for an explanation.

  "You don't need them," he exclaimed with a quiet smile in whichwas a shade of embarrassment. "I--I came here to tell you thatI--" He stopped as if unable to find words, while Shirley gazed athim in utter astonishment. "Ah," he went on finally, "you havemade it very hard for me to speak." Again he paused and then withan effort he said slowly: "An hour ago I had Senator Roberts onthe long distance telephone, and I'm going to Washington. It's allright about your father. The matter will be dropped. You've beatenme. I acknowledge it. You're the first living soul who ever hasbeaten John Burkett Ryder."

  Shirley started forward with a cry of mingled joy and surprise.Could she believe her ears? Was it possible that the dreadedColossus had capitulated and that she had saved her father? Hadthe forces of right and justice prevailed, after all? Her facetransfigured, radiant she exclaimed breathlessly:

  "What, Mr. Ryder, you mean that you are going to help my father?"

  "Not for his sake--for yours," he answered frankly.

  Shirley hung her head. In her moment of triumph, she was sorry forall the hard things she had said to this man. She held out herhand to him.

  "Forgive me," she said gently, "it was for my father. I had nofaith. I thought your heart was of stone."

  Impulsively Ryder drew her to him, he clasped her two hands in hisand looking down at her kindly he said, awkwardly:

  "So it was--so it was! You accomplished the miracle. It's thefirst time I've acted on pure sentiment. Let me tell yousomething. Good sentiment is bad business and good businessis bad sentiment--that's why a rich man is generally supposed tohave such a hard time getting into the Kingdom of Heaven." Helaughed and went on, "I've given ten millions apiece to threeuniversities. Do you think I'm fool enough to suppose I can buy myway? But that's another matter. I'm going to Washington on behalfof your father because I--want you to marry my son. Yes, I wantyou in the family, close to us. I want your respect, my girl. Iwant your love. I want to earn it. I know I can't buy it. There'sa weak spot in every man's armour and this is mine--I always wantwhat I can't get and I can't get your love unless I earn it."

  Shirley remained pensive. Her thoughts were out on Long Island, atMassapequa. She was thinking of their joy when they heard thenews--her father, her mother and Stott. She was thinking of thefuture, bright and glorious with promise again, now that the darkclouds were passing away. She thought of Jefferson and a softlight came into her eyes as she foresaw a happ
y wifehood sharedwith him.

  "Why so sober," demanded Ryder, "you've gained your point, yourfather is to be restored to you, you'll marry the man you love?"

  "I'm so happy!" murmured Shirley. "I don't deserve it. I had nofaith."

  Ryder released her and took out his watch.

  "I leave in fifteen minutes for Washington," he said. "Will youtrust me to go alone?"

  "I trust you gladly," she answered smiling at him. "I shall alwaysbe grateful to you for letting me convert you."

  "You won me over last night," he rejoined, "when you put up thatfight for your father. I made up my mind that a girl so loyal toher father would be loyal to her husband. You think," he went on,"that I do not love my son--you are mistaken. I do love him and Iwant him to be happy. I am capable of more affection than peoplethink. It is Wall Street," he added bitterly, "that has crushedall sentiment out of me."

  Shirley laughed nervously, almost hysterically.

  "I want to laugh and I feel like crying," she cried. "What willJefferson say--how happy he will be!"

  "How are you going to tell him?" inquired Ryder uneasily.

  "I shall tell him that his dear, good father has relented and--"

  "No, my dear," he interrupted, "you will say nothing of the sort.I draw the line at the dear, good father act. I don't want him tothink that it comes from me at all."

  "But," said Shirley puzzled, "I shall have to tell him that you--"

  "What?" exclaimed Ryder, "acknowledge to my son that I was in thewrong, that I've seen the error of my ways and wish to repent?Excuse me," he added grimly, "it's got to come from him. He mustsee the error of _his_ ways."

  "But the error of his way," laughed the girl, "was falling in lovewith me. I can never prove to him that that was wrong!"

  The financier refused to be convinced. He shook his head and saidstubbornly:

  "Well, he must be put in the wrong somehow or other! Why, my dearchild," he went on, "that boy has been waiting all his life for anopportunity to say to me: 'Father, I knew I was in the right, andI knew you were wrong,' Can't you see," he asked, "what a falseposition it places me in? Just picture his triumph!"

  "He'll be too happy to triumph," objected Shirley.

  Feeling a little ashamed of his attitude, he said:

  "I suppose you think I'm very obstinate." Then, as she made noreply, he added: "I wish I didn't care what you thought."

  Shirley looked at him gravely for a moment and then she repliedseriously:

  "Mr. Ryder, you're a great man--you're a genius--your life is fullof action, energy, achievement. But it appears to be only thegood, the noble and the true that you are ashamed of. When yourmoney triumphs over principle, when your political power defeatsthe ends of justice, you glory in your victory. But when you do akindly, generous, fatherly act, when you win a grand and noblevictory over yourself, you are ashamed of it. It was a kind,generous impulse that has prompted you to save my father and takeyour son and myself to your heart. Why are you ashamed to let himsee it? Are you afraid he will love you? Are you afraid I shalllove you? Open your heart wide to us--let us love you."

  Ryder, completely vanquished, opened his arms and Shirley sprangforward and embraced him as she would have embraced her ownfather. A solitary tear coursed down the financier's cheek. Inthirty years he had not felt, or been touched by, the emotion ofhuman affection.

  The door suddenly opened and Jefferson entered. He started onseeing Shirley in his father's arms.

  "Jeff, my boy," said the financier, releasing Shirley and puttingher hand in his son's, "I've done something you couldn't do--I'veconvinced Miss Green--I mean Miss Rossmore--that we are not so badafter all!"

  Jefferson, beaming, grasped his father's hand.

  "Father!" he exclaimed.

  "That's what I say--father!" echoed Shirley.

  They both embraced the financier until, overcome with emotion,Ryder, Sr., struggled to free himself and made his escape from theroom crying:

  "Good-bye, children--I'm off for Washington!"

  THE END

  Transcriber's Notes:

  The following words used an 'ae' or 'oe' ligature in the original:Croesus, manoeuvre, subpoena, _coeur_, vertebrae, Caesar.

  There were a number of faded/missing letters and some transpositionerrors in the edition this eBook was taken from. The followingcorrections were made:

  Chapter headers standardised: V-VII previously had a trailing full-stop.

  Opening quote inserted: "Yes, and it was worth it to him...Typo "determinatioin": ...arriving at this determination.Opening quote inserted: "Tell me, what do the papers say?"Single quote moved: "You sent him a copy of 'The American Octopus'?"Single quote doubled: ...hatred of the hero of your book."Acute accent inserted: ...proceeded to the Hotel de l'Athenee...Typo "I'ts": ...life to my father. It's no use...Quote moved/reversed: ...said Shirley decisively. "What is more...Closing quote inserted: ...What account will you be able to give?"Typo "Rosmore": ...Judge Rossmore--that is by saving him...Closing quote inserted: "How?" asked Shirley calmly.Closing quote inserted: "Upon my word--" he said.Opening quote inserted: "The dying father, the sorrowing mother...Opening quote inserted: ...a meddlesome man," insisted Ryder "and...Opening quote inserted: ...she replied seriously. "Nothing can be...Closing quote inserted: ...a hopeless love?" He approached her...Quote moved/reversed: ...answered Jefferson embarrassed. "The fact...