positively haggard.
Dressing with unwonted haste, he inquired for Ruth, and was told that a
telephone message had come from her late the previous evening to say
that she was spending the night at the apartment of Mrs. Lora Delane
Porter. The hated name increased Bailey's indignation. He held Mrs.
Porter responsible for the whole trouble. But for her pernicious
influence, Ruth would have been an ordinary sweet American girl,
running as, Bailey held, a girl should, in a decent groove.
It increased his troubles that his father was away from New York.
Bailey, who enjoyed the dignity of being temporary head of the firm of
Bannister & Son, had approved of his departure. But now he would have
given much to have him on the spot. He did not doubt his own ability to
handle this matter, but he felt that his father ought to know what was
going on.
His wrath against this upstart artist who secretly entertained his
sister in his studio grew with the minutes. It would be his privilege
very shortly to read that scrubby dauber a lesson in deportment which
he would remember.
In the interests of the family welfare he decided to stay away from the
office that day. The affairs of Bannister & Son would be safe for the
time being in the hands of the head clerk. Having telephoned to Wall
Street to announce his decision, he made a moody breakfast and then
proceeded, as was his custom of a morning, to the gymnasium for his
daily exercise.
The gymnasium was a recent addition to the Bannister home. It had been
established as the result of a heart-to-heart talk between old John
Bannister and his doctor. The doctor spoke earnestly of nervous
prostration and stated without preamble the exact number of months
which would elapse before Mr. Bannister living his present life, would
make first-hand acquaintance with it. He insisted on a regular routine
of exercise. The gymnasium came into being, and Mr. Steve Dingle,
physical instructor at the New York Athletic Club, took up a position
in the Bannister household which he was wont to describe to his
numerous friends as a soft snap.
Certainly his hours were not long. Thirty minutes with old Mr.
Bannister and thirty minutes with Mr. Bailey between eight and nine in
the morning and his duties were over for the day. But Steve was
conscientious and checked any disposition on the part of his two
clients to shirk work with a firmness which Lora Delane Porter might
have envied.
There were moments when he positively bullied old Mr. Bannister. It
would have amazed the clerks in his Wall Street office to see the
meekness with which the old man obeyed orders. But John Bannister was a
man who liked to get his money's worth, and he knew that Steve was
giving it to the last cent.
Steve at that time was twenty-eight years old. He had abandoned an
active connection with the ring, which had begun just after his
seventeenth birthday, twelve months before his entry into the Bannister
home, leaving behind him a record of which any boxer might have been
proud. He personally was exceedingly proud of it, and made no secret of
