Forward, March | Page 2

blood in him, and I recall having to thrash him on one occasion because
he objected to my shooting a bird. I thought of course, though, that he
had outgrown all such nonsense by this time."
"There is no nonsense about him!" flashed out Spence, warmly; and
then, to her companion's amazement, the girl began a most spirited
defence of her absent cousin, during which she denounced in such
bitter terms the taking of innocent lives under the name of "sport" that
the other was finally thankful to change the conversation to a more
congenial topic.
In the mean time Dulce Norris had entered the morning-room to find
out why Spence had gone to ride with Herman Dodley instead of with
Ridge, as had been arranged.
"Was that Herman Dodley?" asked the latter, without answering his
sister's question.

"Yes, of course, but why do you ask with such a tragic air?"
"Because," replied Ridge, "I have heard reports concerning him which,
if confirmed, should bar the doors of this house against him forever."
"What do you mean, Ridge Norris? I'm sure Mr. Dodley bears as good
a reputation as the majority of young men one meets in society. Of
course since he has got into politics his character has been assailed by
the other party; but then no one ever believes what politicians say of
one another."
"No matter now what I mean," rejoined the young man. "Perhaps I will
tell you after I have spoken to father on the subject, which I mean to do
at once."
Ridge Norris, on his way to the library, where he hoped to find his
father, was somewhat of a disappointment to his family. Born of a
mother in whose veins flowed French and Spanish blood, and who had
taught him to speak both languages, and of a New England father, who
had spent his entire business life in the far South, Ridge had been
reared in an atmosphere of luxury. He had been educated in the North,
sent on a grand tour around the world, and had finally been given a
position, secured through his father's influence, in a Japanese-American
banking house. From Yokohama he had been transferred to the New
York office, where, on account of a slight misunderstanding with one
of his superiors, he had thrown up his position to return to his home
only a few days before this story opens.
Now his family did not know what to do with him. He disliked business,
and would not study for a profession. He was a dear, lovable fellow,
honest and manly in all his instincts; but indolent, fastidious in his
tastes, and apparently without ambition. He was devoted to music and
flowers, extremely fond of horses, which he rode more than ordinarily
well, and had a liking for good books. He had, furthermore, returned
from his travels filled with pride for his native land, and declaring that
the United States was the only country in the world worth fighting and
dying for.

Taking the morning's mail from the hand of a servant who had just
brought it, Ridge entered his father's presence.
"Here are your letters, sir," he said, "but before you read them I should
like a few moments' conversation with you."
"Certainly, son. What is it?"
As Ridge told what he had heard concerning Herman Dodley, the elder
man's brows darkened; and, when the recital was finished, he said:
"I fear all this is true, and have little doubt that Dodley is no better than
he should be; but, unfortunately, I am so situated at present that I
cannot forbid him the house. I will warn Dulce and her friend against
him; but just now I am not in a position to offend him."
"Why, father!" cried Ridge, amazed to hear his usually fearless and
self-assertive parent adopt this tone. "I thought that you were--"
"Independent of all men," interrupted the other, finishing the sentence.
"So I believed myself to be. But I am suddenly confronted by business
embarrassments that force me temporarily to adopt a different policy.
Truly, Ridge, we are threatened with such serious losses that I am
making every possible sacrifice to try and stem the tide. I have even
placed our summer home on the Long Island coast in an agent's hands,
and am deeply grieved that you should have thrown up a position,
promising at least self-support, upon such slight provocation."
"But he ordered me about as though I were a servant, instead of
requesting me to do things in a gentlemanly way."
"And were you not a servant?"
"No, sir, I was not--at least, not in the sense of being amenable to brutal
commands. I was not, nor will I ever be, anybody's slave."
"Oh well, my boy!" replied the elder, with a