EooJ Beats 



aristocrats, any one could see that at a glance. 

 In an instant they were lost. 



Striving knew he ought to be going over and 

 over the printed brief in the green bag at his side. 

 What was that the senior partner had said just as 

 he was leaving? What ivas it? Striving knitted 

 his brows. Anyhow what difference did it make? 

 Oh yes, now he remembered. 



"Striving," the senior partner had remarked, 

 in that perfectly arid, bloodless w^ay of his, "Striv- 

 ing, keep one thing in mind, and that is that a 

 residuary devise, if it fails, goes intestate. Ham- 

 mer 'em. Make *em see it, d'ye hear?" 



Oh yes, he heard. Of course he'd hammer 'em. 

 But he couldn't help thinking of that mare and 

 foal by the stream. The mare reminded him of 

 old Gypsy. How Gypsy could gallop! They 

 couldn't catch her once she got well away, — and 

 only fifteen one at that — hardly more than a pony. 



The train passed into broad, open country. 

 Striving leaned back more comfortably. It was 

 good to see the great rolling fields checkered with 

 well kept stone walls and fences. He jammed his 

 hea\'y carry-all bag to one side and stretched his 

 long legs past the chair in front of him. Then he 

 yawned and continued to gaze at the fast moving 

 landscape a little wistfully. 



Striving was your hard-bitted type, born for 

 60 



