"But the hard times always catch people unawares," said I.
"They do," he admitted, "but they never tried to stalk a covey of boom specialists before.... You remember all that rot I used to talk about the mind-force method, and psychological booms? We've been false to that theory, by coming to believe so implicitly in our own preaching. Why, Al, this work we've begun here has got to go on! It must go on! There mustn't be any collapse or failure. When the hard times come, we must be prepared to go right on through, cutting a little narrower swath, but cutting all the same. Stand by the guns with me, and, in spite of all, we'll win, and save Lattimore--and spare the captives, too!"
There was the fire of unconquerable resolution in his eye, and a resonance in his voice that thrilled me. After all he had done, after the victories we had won under his leadership, the admiration and love I felt for him rose to the idolatry of a soldier for his general, as I saw him stiffening his limbs, knotting his muscles, and, with teeth set and nostrils dilated, rising to the load which seemed falling on him alone.
"I'll make the turn with these railroad properties," he went on. "We must make Pendleton and Halliday bid each other up to our figure. And there'll be no 'salting down' done, either--yet awhile. I hope things won't shrink too much in the washing; but the real-estate hot air of the past few years must cause some trouble when the payments deferred begin to make the heart sick. The Trust Company will be called on to make good some of its guaranties--and must do it. The banks must be kept strong; and with two millions to sweeten the pot we shall be with 'em to the finish. Why, they can't beat us! And don't forget that right now is the most prosperous time Lattimore ever saw; and put on a look that will corroborate the statement when you go out of here!"
"Bravo, bravo!" said a voice from near the door. "I don't understand any of it, but the speech sounded awfully telling! Where's papa?"
It was Antonia, who had come in unobserved. She wore a felt hat with one little feather on it, driving-gloves, and a dark cloth dress. She stood, rosy with driving, her blonde curls clustering in airy confusion about her forehead, a tailor-gowned Brunhilde.