was two months off, or more, and they could not tell what the outcome of that would be.  So Cowperwood’s repeated appeals for assistance, extension of credit, or the acceptance of some plan he had for his general rehabilitation, were met with the kindly evasions of those who were doubtful.  They would think it over.  They would see about it.  Certain things were standing in the way.  And so on, and so forth, through all the endless excuses of those who do not care to act.  In these days he went about the money world in his customary jaunty way, greeting all those whom he had known there many years and pretending, when asked, to be very hopeful, to be doing very well; but they did not believe him, and he really did not care whether they did or not.  His business was to persuade or over-persuade any one who could really be of assistance to him, and at this task he worked untiringly, ignoring all others.

“Why, hello, Frank,” his friends would call, on seeing him.  “How are you getting on?”

“Fine!  Fine!” he would reply, cheerfully.  “Never better,” and he would explain in a general way how his affairs were being handled.  He conveyed much of his own optimism to all those who knew him and were interested in his welfare, but of course there were many who were not.

In these days also, he and Steger were constantly to be met with in courts of law, for he was constantly being reexamined in some petition in bankruptcy.  They were heartbreaking days, but he did not flinch.  He wanted to stay in Philadelphia and fight the thing to a finish—­putting himself where he had been before the fire; rehabilitating himself in the eyes of the public.  He felt that he could do it, too, if he were not actually sent to prison for a long term; and even then, so naturally optimistic was his mood, when he got out again.  But, in so far as Philadelphia was concerned, distinctly he was dreaming vain dreams.

One of the things militating against him was the continued opposition of Butler and the politicians.  Somehow—­no one could have said exactly why—­the general political feeling was that the financier and the former city treasurer would lose their appeals and eventually be sentenced together.  Stener, in spite of his original intention to plead guilty and take his punishment without comment, had been persuaded by some of his political friends that it would be better for his future’s sake to plead not guilty and claim that his offense had been due to custom, rather than to admit his guilt outright and so seem not to have had any justification whatsoever.  This he did, but he was convicted nevertheless.  For the sake of appearances, a trumped-up appeal was made which was now before the State Supreme Court.