He thought of the lives of the workers in steel and iron and of the things
they had done and would do.
"They have," he thought, "freedom. Steel and iron do not run home to carry
the struggle to women sitting by the fire."
He walked up and down the room.
"Fat old coward. Damned fat old coward," he muttered over and over to
himself.
It was past midnight when he got into bed and began trying to quiet
himself for sleep. In his dreams he saw a fat man with a chorus girl
hanging to his arm kicking his head about a bridge above a swiftly flowing
stream.
When he got down to the breakfast room the next morning Sue had gone. By
his plate he found a note saying that she had gone for Colonel Tom and
would take him to the country for the day. He walked to the office
thinking of the incapable old man who, in the name of sentiment, had
beaten him in what he thought the big enterprise of his life.
At his desk he found a message from Webster. "The old turkey cock has
fled," it said; "we should have saved the twenty-five thousand."
On the phone Webster told Sam of an early visit to the club to see Colonel
Tom and that the old man had left the city, going to the country for the
day.
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