rebuffed. Stung by this treatment and by the coldness of his fellow members at the club, who indeed made him feel that his presence there was unwelcome, he challenged any one to meet him in public or semi-public debate on the question of the lock-out; no one heeded the challenge. It angered Stewart to feel that because the people whom he most wished to reach perversely declined to listen, his educational work was unproductive. He had hoped that he could create at least an impression and rouse some sentiment among the persons of his acquaintance; instead of that he found that the only persons who would listen to him at all were tradespeople and artisans with whom he had no acquaintance and who were already in sympathy with his opinions. In such circumstances he felt he was not making much headway with the propaganda. Nevertheless his support seemed valued by Tustin and the others; he was admitted to the counsels of the leaders,—or thought that he was,—and he was kept contented and zealous by the belief that he was preparing a future for himself politically.
Floyd, although unaware of Stewart's ultimate aspirations, kept himself informed of his friend's activity and wondered at it, with more sadness than bitterness. A talk that he had with Bob Dunbar gave him some light on the reasons which were determining Stewart's course.
"I think," said Dunbar, "if Stewart had been able to feel that he stood a chance of winning this competition, he'd never have run amuck this way. He worked over that; he really did; it was the thing which was to determine his career as architect. It was make or break with him. And at the last I imagine he felt that he'd worked on the plans to no purpose and did n't really have the stuff in him, so he threw it all over and rushed into this business, partly with an hysterical belief in it and partly with a dramatic impulse to make the ruin more complete."
"I shouldn't wonder," said Floyd sympathetically.
