Isaac stretched out his thin hand. His bony forefinger pointed
menacingly towards Arnold.

"You fool!" he cried. "You brainless creature of brawn and muscle!
You have heard no harm of him save that he was immensely wealthy!
Listen. Bear that sentence in your mind and listen to me, listen
while I tell you a story. A party of travelers was crossing the
desert. They lost their way. One man only had water, heaps of water.
There was enough in his possession for all, enough and to spare. The
sun beat upon their heads, their throats were parched, their lips
were black, they foamed at the mouth. On their knees they begged and
prayed for water; he took not even the trouble to reply. He kept
himself cool and refreshed with his endless supply; he poured it
upon his head, he bathed his lips and drank. So he passed on, and
the people around died, cursing him. Last of all, one who had seen
his wife sob out her last breath in his arms, more terrible still
had heard his little child shriek with agony, clutch at him and pray
for water--he saw the truth, and what power there is above so guided
his arm that he struck. The man paid the just price for his colossal
greed. The vultures plucked his heart out in the desert. So died
Rosario!"

Arnold shook his head.

"The cases are not similar, Isaac," he declared.

"You lie!" Isaac shrieked. "There is not a hair's-breadth of
difference! Rosario earned his wealth in an office hung with costly
pictures; he earned it lounging in ease in a padded chair, earned it
by the monkey tricks of a dishonest brain. Never an honest day's