I did the
same thing, only I did it in a decent, law-abiding way. I didn't
want to tear down those that was up. I wanted to go up and join
'em. And I did.''
And his eyes glistened fondly and proudly as he gazed at his
daughter. She represented the climax of his rising--she, the
lady born and bred, in her beautiful clothes, with her lovely,
delicate charms. Yes, he had indeed ``come up,'' and there
before him was the superb tangible evidence of it.
Jane had the strongest belief in her father's worldly wisdom. At
the same time, from what David Hull said she had got an
impression of a something different from the ordinary human being
in this queer Victor Dorn. ``You'd better move slowly,'' she
said to her father. ``There's no hurry, and you might be
mistaken in him.''
``Plenty of time,'' asserted her father. ``There's never any
need to hurry about giving up money.'' Then, with one of those
uncanny flashes of intuition for which he, who was never caught
napping, was famous, he said to her sharply: ``You keep your
hands off, miss.''
She was thrown into confusion--and her embarrassment enraged her
against herself. ``What could _I_ do?'' she retorted with a
brave attempt at indifference.
``Well--keep your hands off, miss,'' said the old man. ``No
female meddling in business. I'll stand for most anything, but
not for that.''
Jane was now all eagerness for dropping the subject. She wished
no further prying of that shrewd mind into her secret thoughts.
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