"You'll have to act quickly."
"Why?"
"There's a syndicate of reactionaries ready to take it, I'm told. Talk it over, you two—discuss the bad parts mostly. I'll call you up in the morning. Then, if you want to go through it, get your lawyer and we'll settle it up. Good-bye."
"Oh, wait," cried Roger. "There's a million questions I want to ask you."
"No. You two talk it over. I'm out of it—till to-morrow." And with that he seized his hat, and in a moment was striding down the avenue. Judith watched him from the window until he was out of sight. Then she turned to Roger.
"Does it really appeal to you, lad?" she asked wistfully.
"It certainly does," he cried with enthusiasm. "And besides I don't see how I'll ever get into business unless I buy my way in. This is a chance in a million. There's money in newspapers. Look at The Press. Why, you couldn't buy its stock—not at any price."
Tears forced themselves into Judith's eyes. She wondered if she ought to let Roger deceive himself. She knew all too clearly that Good's ambitions lay not along the route of money. She wondered fearfully if he could transform Roger's ideals from the conventional worship of profit-taking to something less substantial and less understood. But as she thought what he had already accomplished with the boy, her fears vanished, giving place to a feeling of awe. What was the secret of this man's fascination, that he could force her to yield implicit faith to his lightest word? What caused him to be able, not merely to convert her to the most amazing ideas, but actually to make her join him in the propaganda? She had a premonition of what John Baker would say when she told him her decision. Then the recollection of the salary which Good had proposed for himself came to her, and she smiled.
All that day and until far into the night, she and Roger discussed the great idea. Or rather, Roger talked and planned and dreamed, and she listened. And as she listened to his enthusiasm, the first of his life over anything really worth while, her resolution crystallised. If she could give money toward the building of a church in which her interest was undeniably decreasing, she could give money toward the building of her brother into manhood. And she was far from overlooking the opportunity for herself. She had never heard of a woman going into the publishing of newspapers, but Good's enthusiasm for the high ends to be attained had fired her more than she realised, and as the hours passed, she flamed higher with real enthusiasm for what had, at first thought, seemed the wildest of wild projects. Before she retired, her mind was quite made up. She, idler and parasite, would play a part in the world of affairs.
The next morning, calm but determined, and speaking her thoughts in few words, she was in John Baker's office. Briefly and clearly, she made known to him the resolution she had taken. His jaw dropped as he listened, and his usual immobility of countenance quite deserted him. He tried to smile.