“No,” said Samuel. “What?”
And his companion replied, “It's the Lockman place.”
Samuel caught his breath and clutched at the seat.
“The Lockman place!” he panted; and then again, “The Lockman place!”
He stared ahead at the great building, with the broad porticos and the snow-white columns. He could hardly credit his ears.
“I'm the old man's son,” added the stranger genially. “Albert's my name. They call me Bertie.”
CHAPTER IX
Properly to understand the thrill which this revelation brought to Samuel, one would have to consider the state of his mind. With all the power of his being Samuel was seeking for excellence; and a great and wise man had explained to him what were the signs by which this quality was known. And in the “struggle for existence” old Henry Lockman had succeeded more than any other man of whom Samuel had ever heard in his life. He owned these huge glass works, and many others all over the country. He owned the trolley roads, and the gas works, and the water works; the place had been named after him, and the great college also. For many years he had even run the government of the town, so Finnegan had stated. And here was this huge estate, his home—a palace fit for a king. How great must have been the excellence of such a man! And what benefits he must have conferred upon the world, to have been rewarded with all this power and glory!