Chapter XXI
Upon his return from the office that night, Bryce Cardigan found his father had left his bed and was seated before the library fire. "Feeling a whole lot better to-day, eh, pal?" his son queried. John Cardigan smiled. "Yes, son," he replied plaintively. "I guess I'll manage to live till next spring." "Oh, I knew there was nothing wrong with you, John Cardigan, that a healthy check wouldn't cure. Pennington rather jolted you, though, didn't he?" "He did, Bryce. It was jolt enough to be forced to sell that quarter-- I never expected we'd have to do it; but when I realize that it was a case of sacrificing you or my Giants, of course you won. And I didn't feel so badly about it as I used to think I would. I suppose that's because there is a certain morbid pleasure in a real sacrifice for t
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