“There you are, then. You say his search for his father has been futile. You don’t know positively that it was, do you?”
“It was, up to the night before he went to Leadville.”
“Well, many a man has had his world turned upside down for him between dark and daylight in a single night. Whatever the cause may have been, the effects are as I have indicated. Philip is setting a pace that not even a half-share in a gold mine can stand indefinitely. If you think you can do anything with him, you’d better go after him. As I say, he is needing a friend mighty badly.”
“Sure I’ll go,” agreed the play-boy promptly. “I owe Philip a lot more than I’ll ever be able to pay. And you mustn’t judge him by this one fall-down, Mr. Drew. There are some people who suffer most from an excess of their virtues—if you know what I mean—and Philip is one of those. He has stood up stiff and straight all his life, and when a fellow who lives that way gets bowled over——”
“I know,” assented the man of large experience. “The greatest danger in a case of that kind lies in that ‘excess of the virtues’ you speak of. When the barriers are once thrown down, the job of rebuilding them is apt to seem hopeless.”
“That is where it will hit Phil the hardest, I’m sure. But we won’t hope for the worst. Are you stopping over for a few days?”
“Until Monday or Tuesday. Are your quarters here in the Windsor?”
“Oh, no; I have a boarding place in West Denver—with friends. I’m here just now to call upon some other friends—people from Philadelphia. And that reminds me: you said you used to live in Philadelphia; perhaps you know these friends of mine—the Follansbees?”
“Not Judge John?”
“You have called the turn; Judge John and Mrs. Judge John and Tom and Eugenia and Lucy Ann.”