"
"Oh, I can't leave mother!" burst from the child's lips
involuntarily, her horror overcoming her fear of the speaker.
"I didn't ask you if you could," remarked Mr. Woodstock, with
something like a sneer, tapping the desk with the fingers of his
right hand. "I asked whether you could carry a message. Can you, or
not?"
"Yes, I can," stammered Ida.
"Then take _that_ message, and tell your mother it's all I've got to
say. Run away."
He rose and stood with his hands behind him, watching her. Ida made
what haste she could to the door, and sped out into the street.
CHAPTER III
ANTECEDENTS
It would not have been easy to find another instance of a union of
keen intellect and cold heart so singular as that displayed in the
character of Abraham Woodstock. The man s life had been strongly
consistent from the beginning; from boyhood a powerful will had
borne him triumphantly over every difficulty, and in each decisive
instance his will had been directed by a shrewd intelligence which
knew at once the strength of its own resources and the multiplied
weaknesses of the vast majority of men. In the pursuit of his ends
he would tolerate no obstacle which his strength would suffice to
remove.
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