Robert Kimberly

To the extent that fraud is an element of force,he employed fraud; but it was only because fraudis a part of force, and whoever sets store by theone will not always shrink from the other. Anydisposition of a question that lacked somethingof this complexion seemed to Uncle John a dangerous one.

Charles had so long seen bludgeoning succeedthat it had become an accepted part of hisbusiness philosophy. But in the day he now faced, new forces had arisen. Public sentiment hadbecome a factor in industrial problems; John wasblind to its dangerous power; Charles was quitealive to it.

New views of the problem of competition hadbeen advanced, and in advocating them, one of theKimberlys, Robert, was known to be a leader.This school sought to draw the sting of competitiveloss through understandings, coöperation, andpeace, instead of suspicion, random effort, and war.

Charles saw this tendency with satisfaction;Uncle John saw it sceptically. But Charles, influenced by the mastery of his uncle, becameunsettled in his conclusions and stood liable to veer inhis judgment to one side or the other of thequestion, as he might be swayed by apprehensionsconcerning the new conditions or rested in confidencein the policies of the old.

Between these two Kimberly make-ups, theone great in attack, the other in compromise, stoodRobert. "Say what you please," Nelson oftenrepeated to McCrea, "John may be all right, but his day is past. Charlie forgets every daymore than the opposition know, all told. But Icall Robert the devil of the family. How doeshe know when to be bold? Can you tell? Howdoes he know when to be prudent? I know men,if I do anything, McCrea-but I never canmeasure that fellow."

Whatever Robert liked at least enlisted all of hisactivities and his temperament turned these intosteam cylinders. John Kimberly influencedRobert in no way at all and after some years ofprofanity and rage perceived that he never should.This discovery was so astounding that after acertain great family crisis he silently and secretlyhanded the sceptre of family infallibility over tohis nephew.

Left thus to himself, Robert continued to thinkfor himself. The same faculties that had servedJohn a generation earlier now served Robert.John had forgotten that when a young man he hadnever let anybody think for him, and the energythat had once made John, also made his younger nephew.

The shrewdness that had once overcomecompetition by war now united with competitors toovercome the public by peace. The real objectof industrial endeavor being to make money, awhite-winged and benevolent peace, as Nelsontermed it, should be the policy of all interestsconcerned. And after many hard words, peace witheighty per cent. of the business was usually achievedby the united Kimberlys.

It had cost something to reach this situation; and now that the West had come into the sugarworld it became a Kimberly problem to determinehow the new interests should be taken care of.

On the morning that Charles called he foundUncle John in his chair. They sent for Robert, and pending his appearance opened the conference.At the end of a quarter of an hour Robert hadnot appeared. Charles looked impatiently at hiswatch and despatched a second servant to summonhis brother. After twenty-five minutes a third callwas sent.

During this time, in the sunniest corner of thesouth garden, sheltered by a high stone wallcrested with English ivy and overgrown withclimbing roses, sat Robert Kimberly indolentlywatching Brother Francis and a diminutive Skyeterrier named Sugar.

Sugar was one of Kimberly's dogs, but Francishad nursed Sugar through an attack after thekennel keepers had given him up. And the littledog although very sick and frowsy had finallypulled through. The intimacy thus establishedbetween Sugar and Francis was never afterwardbroken but by death.

In this sunny corner, Kimberly, in a loose, brownsuit of tweed, his eyes shaded by a straw hat, satin a hickory chair near a table. It was thecorner of the garden in which Francis when off dutycould oftenest be found. A sheltered walk ledto the pergola along which he paced for exercise.Near the corner of the wall stood an oak. And abench, some chairs and a table made the spotattractive. Sugar loved the bench, and, curled upon it, usually kept watch while Francis walked.On cold days the dog lay with one hair-curtainedeye on the coming and going black habit. Onwarm days, cocking one ear for the measured step,he dozed.

Francis, when Sugar had got quite well, expressed himself as scandalized that the poor doghad never been taught anything. He possessed, his new master declared, neither manners noraccomplishments, and Francis amid other dutieshad undertaken, in his own words, to make aman of the little fellow.

Robert, sitting lazily by, instead of attendingthe conference call, and apparently thinking ofnothing-though no one could divine just whatmight be going on under his black-bandedhat-was watching Francis put Sugar through some ofthe hard paces he had laid out for him.

"That dog is naturally stupid, Francis-all mydogs are. They continually cheat me on dogs,"said Kimberly presently. "You don't think so?Very well, I will bet you this bank-note," he tookone from his waistcoat as he spoke, "that youcannot stop him this time on 'two'."

"I have no money to bet you, Robert."

"I will give you odds."

"You well know I do not bet-is it not so?"

"You are always wanting money; now I willbet you the bank-note against one dollar, Francis, that you cannot stop him on 'two'."

Francis threw an eye at the money in Kimberly'shand. "How much is the bank-note, Robert?"

"One hundred dollars."

Francis put the temptation behind him. "Youwould lose your money. Sugar knows how tostop. In any case, I have no dollar."

"I will bet the money against ten cents."

"I have not even ten cents."

"I am sorry, Francis, to see a man receiving aslarge a salary as you do, waste it in dissipationand luxury. However, if you have no money, Iwill bet against your habit."

"If I should lose my habit, what would I do?"

"You could wear a shawl," argued Kimberly.

"All would laugh at me. In any case, to betthe clothes off my back would be a sin."

"I am so sure I am right, I will bet the moneyagainst your snuff-box, Francis," persisted Kimberly.

"My snuff-box I cannot bet, since CardinalSantopaolo gave it to me."

"Francis, think of what you could do for yourgood-for-nothing boys with one hundred dollars."

Francis lifted his dark eyes and shook his head.

"I will bet this," continued the tempter, "againstthe snuff in your box, that you can't stop him thistime on 'two'."

"Sugar will stop on 'two'," declared Francis, now wrought up.

"Dare you bet?"

"Enough! I bet! It is the snuff against themoney. May my poor boys win!"

The sunny corner became active. Kimberlystraightened up, and Francis began to talk toSugar.

"Now tell me again," said Kimberly, "what thisverse is."

"I say to him," explained Francis, "that thegood soldier goes to war-"

"I understand; then you say, 'One, two, three!'"

"Exactly."

"When you say 'three,' he gets the lump?"

"Yes."

"But the first time you say the verse you stopat 'two.' Then you repeat the verse. If the dogtakes the lump before you reach the end thesecond time and say 'three'-"

"You get the snuff!" Francis laid the box onthe table beside Kimberly's bank-note.

"Sugar! Guarda!" The Skye terrier sat uprighton his haunches and lifted his paws. Francisgave him a preliminary admonition, took from amysterious pocket a lump of sugar, laid it on thetip of the dog's nose, and holding up his finger, began in a slow and clearly measured tone:

"Buon soldato
Va alia guerra,
Mangia male,
Dorme in terra.
Uno, due-