"I don't know," Hart answered; "I never thought about it."
"I do," answered Heaphy, with a bitterness that Hart failed to recognize. "I envy success. I envy strength. I envy lots of things."
He had started to walk faster and Hart lengthened his stride to keep up with him.
"I like to win," continued Heaphy. "There's a power-r-r," (Mr. Heaphy's rolling r-r was Irish and no mistake)—"a power in it."
"I suppose there is," said Hart, absent-mindedly.
"Power in success," went on Heaphy. "No matter what it is. A fool can be well liked if he chooses, but the other is different."
"Hold your horses," said Hart, "you're getting beyond me."
The "young man with a purpose" did not pursue the subject, but turned it at once.
"Will you come up into my room?" he asked suddenly. "We'll pole our Greek together. Will you come now?"
Hart thanked him and shook his head.
"I think I'll go over to the gym," he said, "and pull those weights."
"Which would you rather do?" inquired
