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Then we both looked at each other and he said, “It must be that that's in his mind all the time. That idea must be in the back of his mind all the time, or he couldn't have said it to me and said it to you also. Isn't that a horrible thought?”

I said, “Oh well, Mr. Taylor, you and I will have to pray for Alfred, that sometime, somehow, before the day of his passing over into eternal life, he will have some understanding of the situation and that idea will pass out of his mind and will cease to seem important to him. Because, of course, it's not going to be important to him after he's crossed the great divide. it would be wonderful, wouldn't it, if he could really come to an inner recognition that it's of no consequence.”

Then Myron said, “You and I will never tell it.” And we never have. I'm telling it to this record for the first time. Isn't it a ridiculous story? Sloan was under great strain and this is the way he cracked. The poor, frightened man, really frightened over his own inadequacies as much as of any big black wolf that was abroad in the land to devour him. Every time I read the paper now about Alfred Sloan doing anything good or generous I rejoice. I don't even dare draw the conclusion that this period of excitement may have led him to