"I can't forget, though, Jane. He is not the sort of friend I want."

"He thought it was for the best, Graydon."

"Yes, and he may have thought he was my friend, too. This letter
says as much. But I like an enemy better, dear. You know what to
expect of an enemy at all times. Here's one from Elias Droom--old
Elias." Droom scrawled a few words of cheer to the young soldier,
urging him not to re-enlist, but to come home, at the end of
his two years. He enclosed a letter from Mr. Clegg, in which that
gentleman promised to put Graydon in charge of their New York office,
if he would take the place. This news sent his spirits bounding.
Tears of a gratefulness he never expected to feel sprang to his
eyes. Jane's happiness was a reflection of his own.

James Bansemer's letter was not read aloud to Jane. When he had
finished the perusal of the long epistle he folded it and stuck
it away in his pocket. His eyes seemed a bit wistful and his face
drawn, but there was no word to let her know what had been written
by the man who had denounced her.

"He is well," was all he said. He did not tell her that his father
had urged him to go into business in the Philippines, saying that
he would provide ample means with which to begin and carry on any
enterprise he cared to exploit. One paragraph cut Graydon to the
quick:

"I'd advise you to steer clear of Chicago. If they don't kill you
in the Philippines, you're better off there. They hate us here."