I. The Mr. Gilder for Whom I am Looking is a Much Older Gentleman..[14]
II. He Clasped Vance’s Hand Warmly.................................[21]
III. A Letter Was Handed to Him....................................[30]
IV. My Salary Has Been Raised,.....................................[37]
V. Hello, Pardner! How D’.e Do.....................................[41]
VI. He Offered Vance Some Havanas,.................................[50]
VII. This ‘ere Town is Comin’ Out of the Kinks in Fine Shape.......[60]
VIII. He Forgot Time,..............................................[68]
IX. I Am Going to Give Him a Piece of My Mind......................[76]
X. Vance Turned and Saw J. Arthur Boast............................[82]
XI. “You’re the Young Man, I Reckon,” Said Grim, “From New York,"..[87]
XII. Don’t You Think I Am Horrid to Go on Talking this Way to You?.[96]
XIII. The Stage Ride..............................................[108]
XIV. Gentlemen, We Deliberate Upon the Destiny of Waterville......[114]
XV. Vance Was Presented to Miss Virginia Bonifield,...............[124]
XVI. We Have Cross-cut Into Whar’ the Vein Ought to Be............[135]
XVII. “Lost Your Position?” Said Louise, with Unmistakable Concern[143]
XVIII. Vance Handed Marcus Donald a Copy..........................[151]
XIX. They Are the Brainiest Lot of Men This Country Has Produced..[162]
XX. They Started Pell-mell Down the Mountain Load.................[171]
XXI. You Will Not Be Angry With Father, Will You?.................[179]
XXII. There Are Times, When It’s Necessary to Put My Foot Down....[189]
XXIII. “Yes,” Whispered Bertha, “I Love You So Much,”.............[207]
XXIV. A Dark Form Crouched Near,..................................[215]
XXV. Where Is the Powder?.........................................[228]
XXVI. A Guilty Conscience Needs No Accuser........................[236]
XXVII. Such Tender Things of Earth Are Sanctified in Heaven.......[256]
CHAPTER I.—VANCE GILDER.
ANCE GILDER had an ambition. It was to be a great journalist.
The sunshine that gleamed in at his western windows disclosed most luxurious apartments—indicating refinement and culture. The bric-a-brac; the leathern walls stamped with gilt; the frieze of palm-leaves; the chandelier; the richly carved book-case, filled with tawny-covered volumes; the upright piano, and a guitar which stood sentinel-like in a retired corner; together with India rugs and tiger skins on the floor before an open grate, half hidden by a large Japanese fan—bespoke wealth as well as refined taste.
Seated at an open escritoire with writing materials before him, on the evening of a June day, was Vance Gilder.