Counsel for the Defense

 By

 Leroy Scott

 Author of

 "The Shears of Destiny, " "To Him That Hath, " "The Walking Delegate"

 Frontispiece by Charles M. Chapman

 GARDEN CITY NEW YORK DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 1912

 _Copyright, 1911, 1912, by_ LEROY SCOTT

 _All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages, including the Scandinavian_

[Illustration: "THRILLING WITH AN UNEXPECTED HOPE, KATHERINE ROSE ANDTRIED TO KEEP HERSELF BEFORE THE EYES OF DOCTOR SHERMAN LIKE ANACCUSING CONSCIENCE"]

 TO HELEN

PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS

KATHERINE WEST. 

DR. DAVID WEST, her father. 

ARNOLD BRUCE, editor of the _Express_. 

HARRISON BLAKE, ex-lieutenant-governor. 

MRS. BLAKE, his mother. 

"BLIND CHARLIE" PECK, a political boss. 

HOSEA HOLLINGSWORTH, an old attorney. 

BILLY HARPER, reporter on the _Express_. 

THE REVEREND DR. SHERMAN, of the Wabash Avenue Church. 

MRS. SHERMAN, his wife. 

MRS. RACHEL GRAY, Katherine's aunt. 

ROGER KENNEDY, prosecuting attorney. 

JUDGE KELLOG. 

MR. BROWN, of the National Electric & Water Company. 

MR. MANNING, a detective. 

ELIJAH STONE, a detective. 

CONTENTS

 CHAPTER PAGE

 I. Westville Prepares to Celebrate 3 II. The Bubble Reputation 15 III. Katherine Comes Home 30 IV. Doctor West's Lawyer 49 V. Katherine Prepares for Battle 63 VI. The Lady Lawyer 80 VII. The Mask Falls 98 VIII. The Editor of the _Express_ 116 IX. The Price of a Man 131 X. Sunset at The Sycamores 146 XI. The Trial 158 XII. Opportunity Knocks at Bruce's Door 172 XIII. The Deserter 191 XIV. The Night Watch 212 XV. Politics Make Strange Bedfellows 226 XVI. Through The Storm 240 XVII. The Cup of Bliss 250 XVIII. The Candidate and the Tiger 264 XIX. When Greek Meets Greek 276 XX. A Spectre Comes to Town 295 XXI. Bruce to the Front 311 XXII. The Last Stand 328 XXIII. At Elsie's Bedside 346 XXIV. Billy Harper Writes a Story 368 XXV. Katherine Faces the Enemy 388 XXVI. An Idol's Fall 403 XXVII. The End of The Beginning 418

COUNSEL FOR THE DEFENSE

CHAPTER I

WESTVILLE PREPARES TO CELEBRATE

The room was thick with dust and draped with ancient cobwebs. In onecorner dismally reposed a literary junk heap--old magazines, broken-backed works of reference, novels once unanimously read but nowunanimously forgotten. The desk was a helter-skelter of papers. One ofthe two chairs had its burst cane seat mended by an atlas of theworld; and wherever any of the floor peered dimly through the generaldébris it showed a complexion of dark and ineradicable greasiness. Altogether, it was a room hopelessly unfit for human habitation; whichis perhaps but an indirect manner of stating that it was the office ofthe editor of a successful newspaper. 

Before a typewriter at a small table sat a bare-armed, solitary man. He was twenty-eight or thirty, abundantly endowed with bone andmuscle, and with a face----But not to soil this early page withabusive terms, it will be sufficient to remark that whatever theDivine Sculptor had carved his countenance to portray, plainly therehad been no thought of re-beautifying the earth with an Apollo. He wasconstructed not for grace, but powerful, tireless action; and therewas something absurdly disproportionate between the small machine andthe broad and hairy hands which so heavily belaboured its ladylikekeys. 

It was a custom with Bruce to write the big local news story of theday himself, a feature that had proved a stimulant to his paper'scirculation and prestige. To-morrow was to be one of the proudest daysof Westville's history, for to-morrow was the formal opening of thecity's greatest municipal enterprise, its thoroughly modernwater-works; and it was an extensive and vivid account of the nextday's programme that the editor was pounding so rapidly out of hismachine for that afternoon's issue of the _Express_. Now and then, ashe paused an instant to shape an effective sentence in his mind, heglanced through the open window beside him across Main Street towhere, against the front of the old Court House, a group ofshirt-sleeved workmen were hanging their country's colours about aspeakers' stand; then his big, blunt fingers thumped swiftly on. 

He had jerked out the final sheet, and had begun to revise his story, making corrections with a very black pencil and in a very large hand, when there sauntered in from the general editorial room a pale, slightyoung man of twenty-five. The newcomer had a reckless air, a humoroustwist to the left corner of his mouth, and a negligent smartness inhis dress which plainly had its origin elsewhere than in Westville. 

The editor did not raise his eyes. 

"In a minute, Billy, " he said shortly. 

"Nothing to hurry about, Arn, " drawled the other. 

The young fellow drew forward the atlas-bottomed chair, leisurelyenthroned himself upon the nations of the earth, crossed his feet uponthe window-sill, and lit a cigarette. About his lounging form therewas a latent energy like that of a relaxed cat. He gazed ratherlanguidly over at the Square, its sides abustle with excitedpreparation. Across the fronts of stores bunting was being tacked;from upper windows crisp cotton flags were being unscrolled. As forthe Court House yard itself, to-day its elm-shaded spaces werelifeless save for the workmen about the stand, a litigant or two goingup the walk, and an occasional frock-coated lawyer, his vestdemocratically unbuttoned to the warm May air. But to-morrow----

The young fellow had turned his head slowly toward the editor's copy, and, as though reading, he began in an emotional, declamatory voice:

"To-morrow the classic shades of Court House Square will teem with atumultuous throng. In the emblazoned speakers' stand the WestvilleBrass Band, in their new uniforms, glittering like so many grandmarshals of the empire, will trumpet forth triumphant music fit toburst; and aloft from this breeze-fluttered throne of oratory----"

"Go to hell!" interrupted Bruce, eyes still racing through his copy. 

"And down from this breeze-fluttered throne of oratory, " continuedBilly, with a rising quaver in his voice, "Mr. Harrison Blake, Westville's favourite son; the Reverend Doctor Sherman, president ofthe Voters' Union, and the Honourable Hiram Cogshell, CallowayCounty's able-bodiest orator, will pour forth prodigal and perfervideloquence upon the populace below. And Dr. David West, he who hasdirected this magnificent work from its birth unto the present, he whohas laid upon the sacred altar of his city's welfare a matchlessdevotion and a lifetime's store of scientific knowledge, he who----"

"See here, young fellow!" The editor slammed down the last sheet ofhis revised story, and turned upon his assistant a square, bony, aggressive face that gave a sense of having been modelled by aclinched fist, and of still glowering at the blow. He had gray eyesthat gleamed dogmatically from behind thick glasses, and hair thatbrush could not subdue. "See here, Billy Harper, will you please go tohell!"

"Sure; follow you anywhere, Arn, " returned Billy pleasantly, holdingout his cigarette case. 

"You little Chicago alley cat, you!" growled Bruce. He took acigarette, broke it open and poured the tobacco into a black pipe, which he lit. "Well--turn up anything?"

"Governor can't come, " replied the reporter, lighting a freshcigarette. 

"Hard luck. But we'll have the crowd anyhow. Blake tell you anythingelse?"

"He didn't tell me that. His stenographer did; she'd opened theGovernor's telegram. Blake's in Indianapolis to-day--looking after hischances for the Senate, I suppose. "

"See Doctor West?"

"Went to his house first. But as usual he wouldn't say a thing. Thatold boy is certainly the mildest mannered hero of the day I ever wentup against. The way he does dodge the spot-light!--it's enough to makeone of your prima donna politicians die of heart failure. To do agreat piece of work, and then be as modest about it as he is--well, Arn, I sure am for that old doc!"

"Huh!" grunted the editor. 

"When it comes time to hang the laurel wreath upon his brow to-morrowI'll bet you and your spavined old Arrangements Committee will have topush him on to the stand by the scruff of his neck. "

"Did you get him to promise to sit for a new picture?"

"Yes. And you ought to raise me ten a week for doing it. He didn'twant his picture printed; and if we did print it, he thought thatprehistoric thing of the eighties we've got was good enough. "

"Well, be sure you get that photo, if you have to use chloroform. Isaw him go into the Court House a little while ago. Better catch himas he comes out and lead him over to Dodson's gallery. "

"All right. " The young fellow recrossed his feet upon the window-sill. "But, Arn, " he drawled, "this certainly is a slow old burg you'vedragged me down into. If one of your leading citizens wants to catchthe seven-thirty to Indianapolis to-morrow morning, I suppose he setshis alarm to go off day before yesterday. "

"What's soured on your stomach now?" demanded the editor. 

"Oh, the way it took this suburb of Nowhere thirty years to wake up toDoctor West! Every time I see him I feel sore for hours afterward athow this darned place has treated the old boy. If your six-cylinder, sixty-horse power, seven-passenger tongues hadn't remembered that hisgrandfather had founded Westville, I bet you'd have talked him out ofthe town long ago. "

"The town didn't understand him. "

"I should say it didn't!" agreed the reporter. 

"And I guess you don't understand the town, " said the editor, a littlesharply. "Young man, you've never lived in a small place. "

"Till this, Chicago was my smallest--the gods be praised!"

"Well, it's the same in your old smokestack of the universe as it ishere!" retorted Bruce. "If you go after the dollar, you're sane. Ifyou don't, you're cracked. Doctor West started off like a winner, sothey say; looked like he was going to get a corner on all the patientsof Westville. Then, when he stopped practising----"

"You never told me what made him stop. "

"His wife's death--from typhoid; I barely remember that. When hestopped practising and began his scientific work, the town thoughthe'd lost his head. "

"And yet two years ago the town was glad enough to get him to takecharge of installing its new water system!"

"That's how it discovered he was somebody. When the city began to lookaround for an expert, it found no one they could get had a tenth ofhis knowledge of water supply. "

"That's the way with your self-worshipping cross-roads towns! Youraise a genius--laugh at him, pity his family--till you learn how theoutside world respects him. Then--hurrah! Strike up the band, boys!When I think how that old party has been quietly studying typhoidfever and water supply all these years, with you bunch of hayseedslooking down on him as a crank--I get so blamed sore at the place thatI wish I'd chucked your letter into the waste-basket when you wrote meto come!"

"It may have been a dub of a town, Billy, but it'll be the best placein Indiana before we get through with it, " returned the editorconfidently. "But whom else did you see?"

"Ran into the Honourable Hiram Cogshell on Main Street, and he slippedme this precious gem. " Billy handed Bruce a packet of typewrittensheets. "Carbon of his to-morrow's speech. He gave it to me, he said, to save us the trouble of taking it down. The Honourable Hiram iscertainly one citizen who'll never go broke buying himself a bushel tohide his light under!"

The editor glanced at a page or two of it with wearied irritation, then tossed it back. 

"Guess we'll have to print it. But weed out some of his flowers ofrhetoric. "

"Pressed flowers, " amended Billy. "Swipe the Honourable Hiram's copyof 'Bartlett's Quotations' and that tremendous orator would havenothing left but his gestures. "

"How about the grand jury, Billy?" pursued the editor. "Anything doingthere?"

"Farmer down in Buck Creek Township indicted for kidnapping hisneighbour's pigs, " drawled the reporter. "Infants snatched away whilefond mother slept. Very pathetic. Also that second-story man wasindicted that stole Alderman Big Bill Perkins's clothes. Remember it, don't you? Big Bill's clothes had so much diameter that the poor, hard-working thief couldn't sell the fruits of his industry. Pathosthere also. Guess I can spin the two out for a column. "

"Spin 'em out for about three lines, " returned Bruce in his abruptmanner. "No room for your funny stuff to-day, Billy; the celebrationcrowds everything else out. Write that about the Governor, and thenhelp Stevens with the telegraph--and see that it's carved down to thebone. " He picked up the typewritten sheets he had finished revising, and let out a sharp growl of "Copy!"

"That's your celebration story, isn't it?" asked the reporter. 

"Yes. " And Bruce held it out to the "devil" who had appeared throughthe doorway from the depths below. 

"Wait a bit with it, Arn. The prosecuting attorney stopped me as I wasleaving, and asked me to have you step over to the Court House for aminute. "

"What's Kennedy want?"

"Something about the celebration, he said. I guess he wants to talkwith you about some further details of the programme. "

"Why the deuce didn't he come over here then?" growled Bruce. "I'm asbusy as he is!"

"He said he couldn't leave. "

"Couldn't leave?" said Bruce, with a snap of his heavy jaw. "Well, neither can I!"

"You mean you won't go?"

"That's what I mean! I'll go to the very gates of hell to get a goodpiece of news, but when it comes to general affairs the politicians, business men, and the etceteras of this town have got to understandthat there's just as much reason for their coming to me as for mygoing to them. I'm as important as any of them. "

"So-ho, we're on our high horse, are we?"

"You bet we are, my son! And that's where you've got to be if you wantthis town to respect you. "

"All right. She's a great nag, if you can keep your saddle. But Iguess I'd better tell Kennedy you're not coming. "

Without rising, Billy leaned back and took up Bruce's desk telephone, and soon was talking to the prosecuting attorney. After a moment heheld out the instrument to the editor. 

"Kennedy wants to speak with you, " he said. 

Bruce took the 'phone. 

"Hello, that you Kennedy?. .. No, I can't come--too busy. Suppose yourun over here. .. . Got some people there? Well, bring 'em along. .. . Whycan't they come? Who are they?. .. Can't you tell me what the situationis?. .. All right, then; in a couple of minutes. "

Bruce hung up the receiver and arose. 

"So you're going after all?" asked Billy. 

"Guess I'd better, " returned the editor, putting on his coat and hat. "Kennedy says something big has just broken loose. Sounds queer. Wonder what the dickens it can be. " And he started out. 

"But how about your celebration story?" queried Billy. "Want it to godown?"

Bruce looked at his watch. 

"Two hours till press time; I guess it can wait. " And taking the storyback from the boy he tossed it upon his desk. 

He stepped out into the local room, which showed the same kindlytolerance of dirt as did his private office. At a long table two youngmen sat before typewriters, and in a corner a third young man wastaking the clicking dictation of a telegraph sounder. 

"Remember, boys, keep everything but the celebration down to bones!"Bruce called out. And with that he passed out of the office and downthe stairway to the street. 

CHAPTER II

THE BUBBLE REPUTATION

Despite its thirty thousand population--"Forty thousand, and growing, sir!" loyally declared those disinterested citizens engaged in thesale of remote fields of ragweed as building lots--Westville was stillbut half-evolved from its earlier state of an overgrown country town. It was as yet semi-pastoral, semi-urban. Automobiles and farm wagonslocked hubs in brotherly embrace upon its highways; cowhide boots andpatent leather shared its sidewalks. There was a stockbroker's officethat was thoroughly metropolitan in the facilities it afforded theélite for relieving themselves of the tribulation of riches; andadjoining it was Simpson Brothers & Company, wherein hick'ry-shirtedgentlemen bartered for threshing machines, hayrakes, axle grease, andsuch like baubles of Arcadian pastime. 

There were three topics on which one could always start an argument inWestville--politics, religion, and the editor of the _Express_. Ayear before Arnold Bruce, who had left Westville at eighteen and whomthe town had vaguely heard of as a newspaper man in Chicago and NewYork but whom it had not seen since, had returned home and takencharge of the _Express_, which had been willed him by the late editor, his uncle. The _Express_, which had been a slippered, dozing, senilesheet under old Jimmie Bruce, burst suddenly into a volcanic youth. The new editor used huge, vociferous headlines instead of the merewhispering, timorous types of his uncle; he wrote a rousing, rough-and-ready English; occasionally he placed an importanteditorial, set up in heavy-faced type and enclosed in a black border, in the very centre of his first page; and from the very start he hadhad the hardihood to attack the "established order" at several pointsand to preach unorthodox political doctrines. The wealthiest citizenswere outraged, and hotly denounced Bruce as a "yellow journalist" anda "red-mouthed demagogue. " It was commonly held by the better elementthat his ultra-democracy was merely a mask, a pose, an advertisingscheme, to gather in the gullible subscriber and to force himselfsensationally into the public eye. 

But despite all hostile criticism of the paper, people read the_Express_--many staid ones surreptitiously--for it had a snap, a go, atang, that at times almost took the breath. And despite the estimateof its editor as a charlatan, the people had yielded to thataggressive personage a rank of high importance in their midst. 

Bruce stepped forth from his stairway, crossed Main Street, and strodeup the shady Court House walk. On the left side of the walk, a-tiptoein an arid fountain, was poised a gracious nymph of cast-iron, sochastely garbed as to bring to the cheek of elderly innocence nofaintest flush. On the walk's right side stood a rigid statue, suggesting tetanus in the model, of the city's founder, Col. DavyWest, wearing a coonskin cap and leaning with conscious dignity upon along deer rifle. 

Bruce entered the dingy Court House, mounted a foot-worn woodenstairway, browned with the ambrosial extract of two generations oftobacco-chewing litigants, and passed into a damp and gloomy chamber. This room was the office of the prosecuting attorney of CallowayCounty. That the incumbent might not become too depressed by hisenvironment, the walls were cheered up by a steel engraving of DanielWebster, frowning with multitudinous thought, and by a crackled map ofIndiana--the latter dotted by industrious flies with myriad namelesscities. 

Three men arose from about the flat-topped desk in the centre of theroom, the prosecutor, the Reverend Doctor Sherman, and a rathersmartly dressed man whom Bruce remembered to have seen once or twicebut whom he did not know. With the first two the editor shook hands, and the third was introduced to him as Mr. Marcy, the agent of theAcme Filter Company, which had installed the filtering plant of thenew water-works. 

Bruce turned in his brusque manner to the prosecuting attorney. 

"What's the matter?" he asked. 

"Suppose we all sit down first, " suggested the prosecutor. 

They did so, and Kennedy regarded Bruce with a solemn, weighty stare. He was a lank, lantern-jawed, frock-coated gentleman of thirty-five, with an upward rolling forelock and an Adam's-apple that throbbed inhis throat like a petrified pulse. He was climbing the politicalladder, and he was carefully schooling himself into that dignity andpoise and appearance of importance which should distinguish thedeportment of the public man. 

"Well, what is it?" demanded Bruce shortly. "About the water-works?"

"Yes, " responded Kennedy. "The water-works, Mr. Bruce, is, I hardlyneed say, a source of pride to us all. To you especially it has had alarge significance. You have made it a theme for a continuousagitation in your paper. You have argued and urged that, since thecity's new water-works promised to be such a great success, Westvilleshould not halt with this one municipal enterprise, but should refusethe new franchise the street railway company is going to apply for, take over the railway, run it as a municipal----"

"Yes, yes, " interrupted Bruce impatiently. "But who's dead? Who wantsthe line of march changed to go by his grocery store?"

"What I was saying was merely to recall how very important thewater-works has been to us, " the prosecutor returned, with increasedsolemnity. He paused, and having gained that heightened stage effectof a well-managed silence, he continued: "Mr. Bruce, something veryserious has occurred. "

For all its ostentation the prosecutor's manner was genuinelyimpressive. Bruce looked quickly at the other two men. The agent wasill at ease, the minister pale and agitated. 

"Come, " cried Bruce, "out with what you've got to tell me!"

"It is a matter of the very first importance, " returned theprosecutor, who was posing for a prominent place in the _Express's_account of this affair--for however much the public men of Westvilleaffected to look down upon the _Express_, they secretly preferred itssuperior presentment of their doings. "Doctor Sherman, in hiscapacity of president of the Voters' Union, has just brought before mesome most distressing, most astounding evidence. It is evidence uponwhich I must act both as a public official and as a member of theArrangements Committee, and evidence which concerns you both as acommitteeman and as an editor. It is painful to me to break----"

"Let's have it from first hands, " interrupted Bruce, irritated by theverbal excelsior which the prosecutor so deliberately unwrapped fromabout his fact. 

He turned to the minister, a slender man of hardly more than thirty, with a high brow, the wide, sensitive mouth of the born orator, fervently bright eyes, and the pallor of the devoted student--a facethat instantly explained why, though so young, he was Westville's mostpopular divine. 

"What's it about, Doctor Sherman?" the editor asked. "Who's the man?"

There was no posing here for Bruce's typewriter. The minister'sconcern was deep and sincere. 

"About the water-works, as Mr. Kennedy has said, " he answered in avoice that trembled with agitation. "There has been some--some crookedwork. "

"Crooked work?" ejaculated the editor, staring at the minister. "Crooked work?"

"Yes. "

"You are certain of what you say?"

"Yes. "

"Then you have evidence?"

"I am sorry--but--but I have. "

The editor was leaning forward, his nostrils dilated, his eyesgleaming sharply behind their thick glasses. 

"Who's mixed up in it? Who's the man?"

The minister's hands were tightly interlocked. For an instant heseemed unable to speak. 

"Who's the man?" repeated Bruce. 

The minister swallowed. 

"Doctor West, " he said. 

Bruce sprang up. 

"Doctor West?" he cried. "The superintendent of the water-works?"

"Yes. "

If the editor's concern for the city's welfare was merely a politicaland business pose, if he was merely an actor, at least he acted hispart well. "My God!" he breathed, and stood with eyes fixed upon theyoung minister. Then suddenly he sat down again, his thick brows drewtogether, and his heavy jaws set. 

"Let's have the whole story, " he snapped out. "From the verybeginning. "

"I cannot tell you how distressed I am by what I have just been forcedto do, " began the young clergyman. "I have always esteemed DoctorWest most highly, and my wife and his daughter have been the closestfriends since girlhood. To make my part in this affair clear, I mustrecall to you that of late the chief attention of the Voters' Unionhas naturally been devoted to the water-works. I never imagined thatanything was wrong. But, speaking frankly, after the event, I must saythat Doctor West's position was such as made it a simple matter forhim to defraud the city should he so desire. "

"You mean because the council invested him with so much authority?"demanded Bruce. 

"Yes. As I have said, I regarded Doctor West above all suspicion. Buta short time ago some matters--I need not detail them--aroused in methe fear that Doctor West was using his office for--for----"

"For graft?" supplied Bruce. 

The minister inclined his head. 

"Later, only a few weeks ago, a more definite fear came to me, " hecontinued in his low, pained voice. "It happens that I have known Mr. Marcy here for years; we were friends in college, though we had losttrack of one another till his business brought him here. A few smallcircumstances--my suspicion was already on the alert--made me guessthat Mr. Marcy was about to give Doctor West a bribe for havingawarded the filter contract to his company. I got Mr. Marcyalone--taxed him with his intention--worked upon his conscience----"

"Mr. Marcy has stated, " the prosecutor interrupted to explain, "thatDoctor Sherman always had great influence over him. "

Mr. Marcy corroborated this with a nod. 

"At length Mr. Marcy confessed, " Doctor Sherman went on. "He hadarranged to give Doctor West a certain sum of money immediately afterthe filtering plant had been approved and payment had been made to thecompany. After this confession I hesitated long upon what I should do. On the one hand, I shrank from disgracing Doctor West. On the other, Ihad a duty to the city. After a long struggle I decided that myresponsibility to the people of Westville should overbalance anyfeeling I might have for any single individual. "

"That was the only decision, " said Bruce. "Go on!"

"But at the same time, to protect Doctor West's reputation, I decidedto take no one into my plan; should his integrity reassert itself atthe last moment and cause him to refuse the bribe, the whole matterwould then remain locked up in my heart. I arranged with Mr. Marcythat he should carry out his agreement with Doctor West. Day beforeyesterday, as you know, the council, on Doctor West's recommendation, formally approved the filtering plant, and yesterday a draft was sentto the company. Mr. Marcy was to call at Doctor West's home thismorning to conclude their secret bargain. Just before the appointedhour I dropped in on Doctor West, and was there when Mr. Marcy called. I said I would wait to finish my talk with Doctor West till they werethrough their business, took a book, and went into an adjoining room. I could see the two men through the partly opened door. After sometalk, Mr. Marcy drew an envelope from his pocket and handed it toDoctor West, saying in a low voice, 'Here is that money we spokeabout. '"

"And he took it?" Bruce interrupted. 

"Doctor West slipped the envelope unopened into his pocket, andreplied, 'Thank you very much; it will come in very handy just now. '"

"My God!" breathed the editor. 

"Though I had suspected Doctor West, I sat there stunned, " theminister continued. "But after a minute or two I slipped out byanother door. I returned with a policeman, and found Doctor West stillwith Mr. Marcy. The policeman arrested Doctor West, and found theenvelope upon his person. In it was two thousand dollars. "

"Now, what do you think of that?" Kennedy demanded of the editor. "Won't the town be thunderstruck!"

Bruce turned to the agent, who had sat through the recital, a merecorroborative presence. 

"And this is all true?"

"That is exactly the way it happened, " replied Mr. Marcy. 

Bruce looked back at the minister. 

"But didn't he have anything to say for himself?"

"I can answer that, " put in Kennedy. "I had him in here before I senthim over to the jail. He admits practically every point that DoctorSherman has made. The only thing he says for himself is that he neverthought the money Mr. Marcy gave him was intended for a bribe. "

Bruce stood up, his face hard and glowering, and his fist crashedexplosively down upon the table. 

"Of all the damned flimsy defenses that ever a man made, that's thelimit!"

"It certainly won't go down with the people of Westville, " commentedthe prosecutor. "And I can see the smile of the jury when he producesthat defense in court. "

"I should say they would smile!" cried Bruce. "But what was hismotive?"

"That's plain enough, " answered the prosecutor. "We both know, Mr. Bruce, that he has earned hardly anything from the practice ofmedicine since we were boys. His salary as superintendent of thewater-works was much less than he has been spending. His property ismortgaged practically to its full value. Everything has gone on thoseexperiments of his. It's simply a case of a man being in a tight fixfor money. "

Bruce was striding up and down the room, scowling and staring fiercelyat the worn linoleum that carpeted the prosecutor's office. 

"I thought you'd take it rather hard, " said Kennedy, a little slyly. "It sort of puts a spoke in that general municipal ownership scheme ofyours--eh?"

Bruce paused belligerently before the prosecutor. 

"See here, Kennedy, " he snapped out. "Because a man you've banked onis a crook, does that prove a principle is wrong?"

"Oh, I guess not, " Kennedy had to admit. 

"Well, suppose you cut out that kind of talk then. But what are yougoing to do about the doctor?"

"The grand jury is in session. I'm going straight before it with theevidence. An hour from now and Doctor West will be indicted. "

"And what about to-morrow's show?"

"What do you think we ought to do?"

"What ought we to do!" Again the editor's fist crashed upon the desk. "The celebration was half in Doctor West's honour. Do we want to meetand hurrah for the man that sold us out? As for the water-works, itlooks as if, for all we know, he might have bought us a lot of oldjunk. Do we want to hold a jubilee over a junk pile? You ask what weought to do. God, man, there's only one thing to do, and that's tocall the whole damned performance off!"

"That's my opinion, " said the prosecutor. "What do you think, DoctorSherman?"

The young minister wiped his pale face. 

"It's a most miserable affair. I'm sick because of the part I've beenforced to play--I'm sorry for Doctor West--and I'm particularly sorryfor his daughter--but I do not see that any other course would bepossible. "

"I suppose we ought to consult Mr. Blake, " said Kennedy. 

"He's not in town, " returned Bruce. "And we don't need to consult him. We three are a majority of the committee. The matter has to be settledat once. And it's settled all right!"

The editor jerked out his watch, glanced at it, then reached for hishat. 

"I'll have this on the street in an hour--and if this town doesn't gowild, then I don't know Westville!"

He was making for the door, when the newspaper man in him recalled anew detail of his story. He turned back. 

"How about this daughter of Doctor West?" he asked. 

The prosecutor looked at the minister. 

"Was she coming home for the celebration, do you know?"

"Yes. She wrote Mrs. Sherman she was leaving New York this morning andwould get in here to-morrow on the Limited. "

"What's she like?" asked Bruce. 

"Haven't you seen her?" asked Kennedy. 

"She hasn't been home since I came back to Westville. When I left hereshe was a tomboy--mostly legs and freckles. "

The prosecutor's lean face crinkled with a smile. 

"I guess you'll find she's grown right smart since then. She went toone of those colleges back East; Vassar, I think it was. She got holdof some of those new-fangled ideas the women in the East are crazyover now--about going out in the world for themselves, and----"

"Idiots--all of them!" snapped Bruce. 

"After she graduated, she studied law. When she was back home twoyears ago she asked me what chance a woman would have to practise lawin Westville. A woman lawyer in Westville--oh, Lord!"

The prosecutor leaned back and laughed at the excruciating humour ofthe idea. 

"Oh, I know the kind!" Bruce's lips curled with contempt. "Loud-voiced--aggressive--bony--perfect frights. "

"Let me suggest, " put in Doctor Sherman, "that Miss West does notbelong in that classification. "

"Yes, I guess you're a little wrong about Katherine West, " smiledKennedy. 

Bruce waved his hand peremptorily. "They're all the same! But what'sshe doing in New York? Practising law?"

"No. She's working for an organization something like DoctorSherman's--The Municipal League, I think she called it. "

"Huh!" grunted Bruce. "Well, whatever she's like, it's a pretty messshe's coming back into!"

With that the editor pulled his hat tightly down upon his forehead andstrode out of the Court House and past the speakers' stand, acrosswhose front twin flags were being leisurely festooned. Back in his ownoffice he picked up the story he had finished an hour before. With asneer he tore it across and trampled it under foot. Then, jerking achair forward to his typewriter, his brow dark, his jaw set, he beganto thump fiercely upon the keys. 

CHAPTER III

KATHERINE COMES HOME

Next morning when the Limited slowed down beside the old framestation--a new one of brick was rising across the tracks--a youngwoman descended from a Pullman at the front of the train. She waslithe and graceful, rather tall and slender, and was dressed witheffective simplicity in a blue tailored suit and a tan straw hat witha single blue quill. Her face was flushed, and there glowed anexpectant brightness in her brown eyes, as though happiness andaffection were upon the point of bubbling over. 

Standing beside her suit-case, she eagerly scanned the figures aboutthe station. Three or four swagger young drummers had scrambled offthe smoker, and these ambassadors of fashion as many hotel bus driverswere inviting with importunate hospitality to honour their respectiveboard and bed. There was the shirt-sleeved figure of Jim Ludlow, ticket agent and tenor of the Presbyterian choir. And leaningcross-legged beneath the station eaves, giving the effect ofsupporting the low roof, were half a dozen slowly masticating, soberlycontemplative gentlemen--loose-jointed caryatides, whose lanksculpture forms the sole and invariable ornamentation of the façadesof all Western stations. But nowhere did the young woman's expectanteyes alight upon the person whom they sought. 

The joyous response to welcome, which had plainly trembled at the tipsof her being, subsided, and in disappointment she picked up her bagand was starting for a street car, when up the long, broad platformthere came hurrying a short-legged little man, with a bloodshot, watery eye. He paused hesitant at a couple of yards, smiledtentatively, and the remnant of an old glove fumbled the brim of arumpled, semi-bald object that in its distant youth had probably beena silk hat. 

The young woman smiled back and held out her hand. 

"How do you do, Mr. Huggins. "

"How de do, Miss Katherine, " he stammered. 

"Have you seen father anywhere?" she asked anxiously. 

"No. Your aunt just sent me word I was to meet you and fetch you home. She couldn't leave Doctor West. "

"Is father ill?" she cried. 

The old cabman fumbled his ancient headgear. 

"No--he ain't--he ain't exactly sick. He's just porely. I guess it'sonly--only a bad headache. "

He hastily picked up her suit-case and led her past the sidlingadmiration of the drummers, those sovereign critics of Westernfemininity, to the back of the station where stood a tottering surreyand a dingy gray nag, far gone in years, that leaned upon its shaftsas though on crutches. Katherine clambered in, and the drooping animaldoddered along a street thickly overhung with the exuberant May-greenof maples. 

She gazed with ardent eyes at the familiar frame cottages, in some ofwhich had lived school and high-school friends, sitting comfortablyback amid their little squares of close-cropped lawn. She liked NewYork with that adoptive liking one acquires for the place one choosesfrom among all others for the passing of one's life; but her affectionremained warm and steadfast with this old town of her girlhood. 

"Oh, but it feels good to be back in Westville again!" she cried tothe cabman. 

"I reckon it must. I guess it's all of two years sence you been home. "

"Two years, yes. It's going to be a great celebration this afternoon, isn't it?"

"Yes'm--very big"--and he hastily struck the ancient steed. "Get-epthere, Jenny!"

Mr. Huggins's mare turned off Station Avenue, and Katharine excitedlystared ahead beneath the wide-boughed maples for the first glimpse ofher home. At length it came into view--one of those big, square, old-fashioned wooden houses, built with no perceptible architecturalidea beyond commodious shelter. She had thought her father mightpossibly stumble out to greet her, but no one stood waiting at thepaling gate. 

She sprang lightly from the carriage as it drew up beside the curb, and leaving Mr. Huggins to follow with her bag she hurried up thebrick-paved path to the house. As she crossed the porch, a slight, gray, Quakerish little lady, with a white kerchief folded across herbreast, pushed open the screen door. Her Katherine gathered into herarms and kissed repeatedly. 

"I'm so glad to see you, auntie!" she cried. "How are you?"

"Very well, " the old woman answered in a thin, tremulous voice. "Howis thee?"

"Me? Oh, you know nothing's ever wrong with me!" She laughed in herbuoyant young strength. "But you, auntie?" She grew serious. "You lookvery tired--and very, very worn and worried. But I suppose it's thestrain of father's headache--poor father! How is he?"

"I--I think he's feeling some better, " the old woman faltered. "He'sstill lying down. "

They had entered the big, airy sitting-room. Katherine's hat and coatwent flying upon the couch. 

"Now, before I so much as ask you a question, or tell you a thing, Aunt Rachel, I'm going up to see dear old father. "

She made for the stairway, but her aunt caught her arm inconsternation. 

"Wait, Katherine! Thee musn't see him yet. "

"Why, what's the matter?" Katherine asked in surprise. 

"It--it would be better for him if thee didn't disturb him. "

"But, auntie--you know no one can soothe him as I can when he has aheadache!"

"But he's asleep just now. He didn't sleep a minute all night. "

"Then of course I'll wait. " Katherine turned back. "Has he sufferedmuch----"

She broke off. Her aunt was gazing at her in wide-eyed, helplessmisery. 

"Why--why--what's the matter, auntie?"

Her aunt did not answer her. 

"Tell me! What is it? What's wrong?"

Still the old woman did not speak. 

"Something has happened to father!" cried Katherine. She clutched heraunt's thin shoulders. "Has something happened to father?"

The old woman trembled all over, and tears started from her mild eyes. 

"Yes, " she quavered. 

"But what is it?" Katherine asked frantically. "Is he very sick?"

"It's--it's worse than that. "

"Please! What is it then?"

"I haven't the heart to tell thee, " she said piteously, and she sankinto a chair and covered her face. 

Katherine caught her arm and fairly shook her in the intensity of herdemand. 

"Tell me! I can't stand this another instant!"

"There--there isn't going to be any celebration. "

"No celebration?"

"Yesterday--thy father--was arrested. "

"Arrested!"

"And indicted for accepting a bribe. "

Katherine shrank back. 

"Oh!" she whispered. "Oh!" Then her slender body tensed, and her darkeyes flashed fire. "Father accept a bribe! It's a lie! A lie!"

"It hardly seems true to me, either. "

"It's a lie!" repeated Katherine. "But is he--is he locked up?"

"They let me go his bail. "

Again Katherine caught her aunt's arm. 

"Come--tell me all about it!"

"Please don't make me. I--I can't. "

"But I must know!"

"It's in the newspapers--they're on the centre-table. "

Katherine turned to the table and seized a paper. At sight of thesheet she had picked up, the old woman hurried across to her indismay. 

"Don't read that _Express_!" she cried, and she sought to draw thepaper from Katherine's hands. "Read the _Clarion_. It's ever so muchkinder. "

But Katherine had already seen the headline that ran across the top ofthe _Express_. It staggered her. She gasped at the blow, but she heldon to the paper. 

"I'll read the worst they have to say, " she said. 

Her aunt dropped into a chair and covered her eyes to avoid sight ofthe girl's suffering. The story, in its elements, was a commonplace toKatherine; in her work with the Municipal League she had every fewdays met with just such a tale as this. But that which is acommonplace when strangers are involved, becomes a tragedy when lovedones are its actors. So, as she read the old, old story, Katherinetrembled as with mortal pain. 

But sickening as was the story in itself, it was made even moreagonizing to her by the manner of the _Express's_ telling. Bruce'stypewriter had never been more impassioned. The story was inheavy-faced type, the lines two columns wide; and in a "box" in thevery centre of the first page was an editorial denouncing Doctor Westand demanding for him such severe punishment as would make futuretraitors forever fear to sell their city. Article and editorial wererousing and vivid, brilliant and bitter--as mercilessly stinging as asalted whip-lash cutting into bare flesh. 

Katherine writhed with the pain of it. "Oh!" she cried. "It's brutal!Brutal! Who could have had the heart to write like that about father?"

"The editor, Arnold Bruce, " answered her aunt. 

"Oh, he's a brute! If I could tell him to his face----" Her wholeslender being flamed with anger and hatred, and she crushed the paperin a fierce hand and flung it to the floor. 

Then, slowly, her face faded to an ashen gray. She steadied herself onthe back of a chair and stared in desperate, fearful supplication atthe bowed figure of the older woman. 

"Auntie?" she breathed. 

"Yes?"

"Auntie"--eyes and voice were pleading--"auntie, the--the things--thispaper says--they never happened, did they?"

The old head nodded. 

"Oh! oh!" she gasped. She wavered, sank stricken into a chair, andburied her face in her arms. "Poor father!" she moaned brokenly. "Poorfather!"

There was silence for a moment, then the old woman rose and gently puta hand upon the quivering young shoulder. 

"Don't, dear! Even if it did happen, I can't believe it. Thyfather----"

At that moment, overhead, there was a soft noise, as of feet placedupon the floor. Katherine sprang up. 

"Father!" she breathed. There began a restless, slippered pacing. "Father!" she repeated, and sprang for the stairway and rapidly ranup. 

At her father's door she paused, hand over her heart. She feared toenter to her father--feared lest she should find his head bowed inacknowledged shame. But she summoned her strength and noiselesslyopened the door. It was a large room, a hybrid of bedroom and study, whose drawn shades had dimmed the brilliant morning into twilight. Anopen side door gave a glimpse of glass jars, bellying retorts andother paraphernalia of the laboratory. 

Walking down the room was a tall, stooping, white-haired figure in aquilted dressing-gown. He reached the end of the room, turned about, then sighted her in the doorway. 

"Katherine!" he cried with quavering joy, and started toward her; buthe came abruptly to a pause, hesitating, accused man that he was, tomake advances. 

Her sickening fear was for the instant swept away by a rising flood oflove. She sprang forward and threw her arms about his neck. 

"Father!" she sobbed. "Oh, father!"

She felt his tears upon her forehead, felt his body quiver, and felthis hand gently stroke her back. 

"You've heard--then?" he asked, at length. 

"Yes--from the papers. "

He held her close, but for a moment did not speak. 

"It isn't a--a very happy celebration--I've prepared for you. "

She could only cry convulsively, "Poor father!"

"You never dreamt, " he quavered, "your old father--could do a thinglike this--did you?"

She did not answer. She trembled a moment longer on his shoulder;then, slowly and with fear, she lifted her head and gazed into hisface. The face was worn--she thrilled with pain to see how sadly wornit was!--but though tear-wet and working with emotion, it met her lookwith steadiness. It was the same simple, kindly, open face that shehad known since childhood. 

There was a sudden wild leaping within her. She clutched hisshoulders, and her voice rang out in joyous conviction:

"Father--you are not guilty!"

"You believe in me, then?"

"You are not guilty!" she cried with mounting joy. 

He smiled faintly. 

"Why, of course not, my child. "

"Oh, father!" And again she caught him in a close embrace. 

After a moment she leaned back in his arms. 

"I'm so happy--so happy! Forgive me, daddy dear, that I could doubtyou even for a minute. "

"How could you help it? They say the evidence against me is verystrong. "

"I should have believed you innocent against all the evidence in theworld! And I do, and shall--no matter what they may say!"

"Bless you, Katherine!"

"But come--tell me how it all came about. But, first, let's brightenup the room a little. "

So great was her relief that her spirits had risen as though somepositive blessing had befallen her. She crossed lightly to the big baywindow, raised the shades and threw up the sashes. The sunlightslanted down into the room and lay in a dazzling yellow square uponthe floor. The soft breeze sighed through the two tall pines withoutand bore into them the perfumed freshness of the spring. 

"There now, isn't that better?" she said, smiling brightly. 

"That's just what your home-coming has done for me, " he saidgratefully--"let in the sunlight. "

"Come, come--don't try to turn the head of your offspring withflattery! Now, sir, sit down, " and she pointed to a chair at his desk, which stood within the bay window. 

"First, "--with his gentle smile--"if I may, I'd like to take a look atmy daughter. "

"I suppose a father's wish is a daughter's command, " she complained. "So go ahead. "

He moved to the window, so that the light fell full upon her, and fora long moment gazed into her face. The brow was low and broad. Overthe white temples the heavy dark hair waved softly down, to befastened in a simple knot low upon the neck, showing in its fullbeauty the rare modelling of her head. The eyes were a rich, warm, luminous brown, fringed with long lashes, and in them lurked allmanner of fathomless mysteries. The mouth was soft, yet full andfirm--a real mouth, such as Nature bestows upon her real women. It wasa face of freshness and youth and humour, and now was tremulous with asmiling, tear-wet tenderness. 

"I think, " said her father, slowly and softly, "that my daughter isvery beautiful. "

"There--enough of your blarney!" She flushed with pleasure, andpressed her fresh cheek against his withered one. "You dear oldfather, you!"

She drew him to his desk, which was strewn with a half-finishedmanuscript on the typhoid bacillus, and upon which stood a fadedphotograph of a young woman, near Katherine's years and made in herimage, dressed in the tight-fitting "basque" of the early eighties. Westville knew that Doctor West had loved his wife dearly, but thetown had never surmised a tenth of the grief that had closed darkly inupon him when typhoid fever had carried her away while her youngwomanhood was in its freshest bloom. 

Katherine pressed him down into his chair at the desk, sat down in onebeside it, and took his hand. 

"Now, father, tell me just how things stand. "

"You know everything already, " said he. 

"Not everything. I know the charges of the other side, and I know yourinnocence. But I do not know your explanation of the affair. "

He ran his free hand through his silver hair, and his face grewtroubled. 

"My explanation agrees with what you have read, except that I did notknow I was being bribed. "

"H'm!" Her brow wrinkled thoughtfully and she was silent for a moment. "Suppose we go back to the very beginning, father, and run over thewhole affair. Try to remember. In the early stages of negotiations, did the agent say anything to you about money?"

He did not speak for a minute or more. 

"Now that I think it over, he did say something about its being worthmy while if his filter was accepted. "

"That was an overture to bribe you. And what did you say to him?"

"I don't remember. You see, at the time, his offer, if it was one, didnot make any impression on me. I believe I didn't say anything to himat all. "

"But you approved his filter?"

"Yes. "

"Mr. Marcy says in the _Express_, and you admit it, that he offeredyou a bribe. You approved his filter. On the face of it, speakinglegally, that looks bad, father. "

"But how could I honestly keep from approving his filter, when it wasthe very best on the market for our water?" demanded Doctor West. 

"Then how did you come to accept that money?"

The old man's face cleared. 

"I can explain that easily. Some time ago the agent said somethingabout the Acme Filter Company wishing to make a little donation to ourhospital. I'm one of the directors, you know. So, when he handed methat envelope, I supposed it was the contribution to thehospital--perhaps twenty-five or fifty dollars. "

"And that is all?"

"That's the whole truth. But when I explained the matter to theprosecuting attorney, he just smiled. "

"I know it's the truth, because you say it. " She affectionately pattedthe hand that she held. "But, again speaking legally, it wouldn'tsound very plausible to an outsider. But how do you explain thesituation?"

"I think the whole affair must be just a mistake. "

"Possibly. But if so, you'll have to be able to prove it. " She thoughta space. "Could it be that this is a manufactured charge?"

Doctor West's eyes widened with amazement. 

"Why, of course not! You have forgotten that the man who makes thecharge is Mr. Sherman. You surely do not think he would let himself beinvolved in anything that he did not believe to be in the highestdegree honourable?"

"I do not know him very well. During the four years he has been here, I have met him only a few times. "

"But you know what your dearest friend thinks of him. "

"Yes, I know Elsie considers her husband to be an ecclesiastical SirGalahad. And I must admit that he has seemed to me the highest type ofthe modern young minister. "

"Then you agree with me, that Mr. Sherman is thoroughly honest in thisaffair? That his only motive is a sense of public duty?"

"Yes. I cannot conceive of him knowingly doing a wrong. "

"That's what has forced me to think it's only just a mistake, " saidher father. 

"You may be right. " She considered the idea. "But what does yourlawyer say?"

His pale cheeks flushed. 

"I have no lawyer, " he said slowly. 

"I see. You were waiting to consult me about whom to retain. "

He shook his head. 

"Then you have approached some one?"

"I have spoken to Hopkins, and Williams, and Freeman. They all----" Hehesitated. 

"Yes?"

"They all said they could not take my case. "

"Could not take your case!" she cried. "Why not?"

"They made different excuses. But their excuses were not their realreason. "

"And what was that?"

The old man flushed yet more painfully. 

"I guess you do not fully realize the situation, Katherine. I don'tneed to tell you that a wave of popular feeling against politicalcorruption is sweeping across the country. This is the first big casethat has come out in Westville, and the city is stirred up over thisas it hasn't been stirred in years. The way the _Express_----You sawthe _Express_?"

Her hands instinctively clenched. 

"It was awful! Awful!"

"The way the _Express_ has handled it has especially--well, yousee----"

"You mean those lawyers are afraid to take the case?"

Doctor West nodded. 

Katherine's dark eyes glowed with wrath. 

"Did you try any one else?"

"Mr. Green came to see me. But----"

"Of course not! It would kill your case to have a shyster representyou. " She gripped his hand, and her voice rang out: "Father, I'm gladthose men refused you. We're going to get for you the biggest man, thebiggest lawyer, in Westville. "

"You mean Mr. Blake?"

"Yes, Mr. Blake. "

"I thought of him at first, of course. But I--well, I hesitated toapproach him. "

"Hesitated? Why?"

"Well, you see, " he stammered, "I remembered about your refusing him, and I felt----"

"That would never make any difference to him, " she cried. "He's toomuch of a gentleman. Besides, that was five years ago, and he hasforgotten it. "

"Then you think he'll take the case?"

"Of course, he'll take it! He'll take it because he's a big man, andbecause you need him, and because he's no coward. And with the biggestman in Westville on your side, you'll see how public opinion willright-about face!"

She sprang up, aglow with energy. "I'm going to see him this minute!With his help, we'll have this matter cleared up before you know it, and"--smiling lightly--"just you see, daddy, all Westville will be outthere in the front yard, tramping over Aunt Rachel's sweet williams, begging to be allowed to come and kiss your hand!"

He kissed her own. He rose, and a smile broke through the clouds ofhis face. 

"You've been home only an hour, and I feel that a thousand years havebeen lifted off me. "

"That's right--and just keep on feeling a thousand years younger. "She smiled caressingly, and began to twist a finger in a buttonhole ofhis coat. "U'm--don't you think, daddy, that such a very younggentleman as you are, such a regular roaring young blade, might--u'm--might----"

"Might what, my dear?"

"Might----" She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. 

A hand went to his throat. 

"Eh, why, is this one----"

"I'm afraid it is, daddy--very!"

"We've been so upset I guess your aunt must have forgotten to put outa clean one for me. "

"And I suppose it never occurred to the profound scientific intellectthat it was possible for one to pull out a drawer and take out acollar for one's self. " She crossed to the bureau and came back with aclean collar. "Now, sir--up with your chin!" With quick hands shereplaced the offending collar with the fresh one, tied the tie andgave it a perfecting little pat. "There--that's better! And now I mustbe off. I'll send around a few policemen to keep the crowds off AuntRachel's flower-beds. "

And pressing on his pale cheek another kiss, and smiling at him fromthe door, she hurried out. 

CHAPTER IV

DOCTOR WEST'S LAWYER

Katherine's refusal of Harrison Blake's unforeseen proposal, duringthe summer she had graduated from Vassar, had, until the present hour, been the most painful experience of her life. 

Ever since that far-away autumn of her fourteenth year when Blake hadled an at-first forlorn crusade against "Blind Charlie" Peck and sweptthat apparently unconquerable autocrat and his corrupt machine frompower, she had admired Blake as the ideal public man. He had seemed sofine, so big already, and loomed so large in promise--it was the fallfollowing his proposal that he was elected lieutenant-governor--thatit had been a humiliation to her that she, so insignificant, sounworthy, could not give him that intractable passion, love. Butthough he had gone very pale at her stammered answer, he had borne hisdisappointment like a gallant gentleman; and in the years since thenhe had acquitted himself to perfection in that most difficult ofrôles, the lover who must be content to be mere friend. 

Katherine still retained her girlish admiration of Mr. Blake. Despitehis having been so conspicuous at the forefront of public affairs, noscandal had ever soiled his name. His rectitude, so said people whosememories ran back a generation, was due mainly to fine qualitiesinherited from his mother, for his father had been a good-natured, hearty, popular politician with no discoverable bias towardover-scrupulosity. In fact, twenty years ago there had been a greatto-do touching the voting, through a plan of the elder Blake'sdevising, of a gang of negroes half a dozen times down in ariver-front ward. But his party had rushed loyally to his rescue, andhad vindicated him by sending him to Congress; and his sudden death onthe day after taking his seat had at the time abashed all accusation, and had suffused his memory with a romantic afterglow of sentiment. 

Blake lived alone with his mother in a house adjoining the Wests', and a few moments after Katherine had left her father she turned intothe Blakes' yard. The house stood far back in a spacious lawn, shadywith broad maples and aspiring pines, and set here and there withshrubs and flower-beds and a fountain whose misty spray hung a goldenaureole upon the sunlight. It was quite worthy of Westville's mostdistinguished citizen--a big, roomy house of brick, its sterner linesall softened with cool ivy, and with a wide piazza crossing its entirefront and embracing its two sides. 

The hour was that at which Westville arose from its accustomed mid-daydinner--which was the reason Katherine was calling at Blake's homeinstead of going downtown to his office. She was informed that he wasin. Telling the maid she would await him in his library, where sheknew he received all clients who called on business at his home, sheascended the well-remembered stairway and entered a large, light roomwith walls booked to the ceiling. 

Despite her declaration to her father that that old love episodehad been long forgotten by Mr. Blake, at this moment it was notforgotten by her. She could not subdue a fluttering agitation overthe circumstance that she was about to appeal for succour to a manshe had once refused. 

She had but a moment to wait. Blake's tall, straight figure enteredand strode rapidly across the room, his right hand outstretched. 

"What--you, Katherine! I'm so glad to see you!"

She had risen. "And I to see you, Mr. Blake. " For all he had oncevowed himself her lover, she had never overcome her girlhood awe ofhim sufficiently to use the more familiar "Harrison. "

"I knew you were coming home, but I had not expected to see you sosoon. Please sit down again. "

She resumed her soft leather-covered chair, and he took theswivel chair at his great flat-topped library desk. His manner wasmost cordial, but lurking beneath it Katherine sensed a certainconstraint--due perhaps, to their old relationship--perhaps due tomeeting a friend involved in a family disgrace. 

Blake was close upon forty, with a dark, strong, handsome face, penetrating but pleasant eyes, and black hair slightly marked withgray. He was well dressed but not too well dressed, as became a publicman whose following was largely of the country. His person gave animmediate impression of a polished but not over-polished gentleman--ofa man who in acquiring a large grace of manner, has lost nothing ofvirility and bigness and purpose. 

"It seems quite natural, " Katherine began, smiling, and trying tospeak lightly, "that each time I come home it is to congratulate youupon some new honour. "

"New honour?" queried he. 

"Oh, your name reaches even to New York! We hear that you are spokenof to succeed Senator Grayson when he retires next year. "

"Oh, that!" He smiled--still with some constraint. "I won't try tomake you believe that I'm indifferent about the matter. But I don'tneed to tell you that there's many a slip betwixt being 'spoken of'and actually being chosen. "

There was an instant of awkward silence. Then Katherine went straightto the business of her visit. 

"Of course you know about father. "

He nodded. "And I do not need to say, Katherine, how very, very sorryI am. "

"I was certain of your sympathy. Things look black on the surface forhim, but I want you to know that he is innocent. "

"I am relieved to be assured of that, " he said, hesitatingly. "For, frankly, as you say, things do look black. "

She leaned forward and spoke rapidly, her hands tightly clasped. 

"I have come to see you, Mr. Blake, because you have always been ourfriend--my friend, and a kinder friend than a young girl had any rightto expect--because I know you have the ability to bring out the truthno matter how dark the circumstantial evidence may seem. I have come, Mr. Blake, to ask you, to beg you, to be my father's lawyer. "

He stared at her, and his face grew pale. 

"To be your father's lawyer?" he repeated. 

"Yes, yes--to be my father's lawyer. "

He turned in his chair and looked out to where the fountain wasflinging its iridescent drapery to the wind. She gazed at his strong, clean-cut profile in breathless expectation. 

"I again assure you he is innocent, " she urged pleadingly. "I know youcan clear him. "

"You have evidence to prove his innocence?" asked Blake. 

"That you can easily uncover. "

He slowly swung about. Though with all his powerful will he strove tocontrol himself, he was profoundly agitated, and he spoke with a verygreat effort. 

"You have put me in a most embarrassing situation, Katherine. "

She caught her breath. 

"You mean?"

"I mean that I should like to help you, but--but----"

"Yes? Yes?"

"But I cannot. "

"Cannot! You mean--you refuse his case?"

"It pains me, but I must. "

She grew as white as death. 

"Oh!" she breathed. "Oh!" She gazed at him, lips wide, in utterdismay. 

Suddenly she seized his arm. "But you have not yet thought itover--you have not considered, " she cried rapidly. "I cannot takeno for your answer. I beg you, I implore you, to take the case. "

He seemed to be struggling between two desires. A slender, well-knithand stretched out and clutched a ruler; his brow was moist; but hekept silent. 

"Mr. Blake, I beg you, I implore you, to reconsider, " she feverishlypursued. "Do you not see what it will mean to my father? If you takethe case, he is as good as cleared!"

His voice came forth low and husky. "It is because it is beyond mypower to clear him that I refuse. "

"Beyond your power?"

"Listen, Katherine, " he answered. "I am glad you believe your fatherinnocent. The faith you have is the faith a daughter ought to have. Ido not want to hurt you, but I must tell you the truth--I do not shareyour faith. "

"You refuse, then, because you think him guilty?"

He inclined his head. "The evidence is conclusive. It is beyond mypower, beyond the power of any lawyer, to clear him. "

This sudden failure of the aid she had so confidently counted asalready hers, was a blow that for the moment completely stunned her. She sank back in her chair and her head dropped down into her hands. 

Blake wiped his face with his handkerchief. After a moment, he went onin an agitated, persuasive voice:

"I do not want you to think, because I refuse, that I am any lessyour friend. If I took the case, and did my best, your father wouldbe convicted just the same. I am going to open my heart to you, Katherine. I should like very much to be chosen for that senatorship. Naturally, I do not wish to do any useless thing that will impairmy chances. Now for me, an aspirant for public favour, to championagainst the aroused public the case of a man who has--forgive me theword--who has betrayed that public, and in the end to lose that case, as I most certainly should--it would be nothing less than politicalsuicide. Your father would gain nothing. I would lose--perhapseverything. Don't you see?"

"I follow your reasons, " she said brokenly into her hands, "I do notblame you--I accept your answer--but I still believe my fatherinnocent. "

"And for that faith, as I told you, I admire and honour you. "

She slowly rose. He likewise stood up. 

"What are you going to do?" he asked. 

"I do not know, " she answered dully. "I was so confident of your aid, that I had thought of no alternative. "

"Your father has tried other lawyers?"

"Yes. They have all refused. You can guess their reason. "

He was silent for an instant. 

"Why not take the case yourself?"

"I take the case!" cried Katherine, amazed. 

"Yes. You are a lawyer. "

"But I have never handled a case in court! I am not even admitted tothe bar of the state. And, besides, a woman lawyer in Westville----No, it's quite out of the question. "

"I was only suggesting it, you know, " he said apologetically. 

"Oh, I realized you did not mean it seriously. "

Her face grew ashen as her failure came to her afresh. She gazed athim with a final desperation. 

"Then your answer--it is final?"

"I am sorry, but it is final, " said he. 

Her head dropped. 

"Thank you, " she said dully. "Good-by. " And she started away. 

"Wait, Katherine. "

She paused, and he came to her side. His features were gray-hued andwere twitching strangely; for an instant she had the wild impressionthat his old love for her still lived. 

"I am sorry that--that the first time you asked aid of me--I shouldfail you. But but----"

"I understand. "

"One word more. " But he let several moments pass before he spoke it, and he wet his lips continually. "Remember, I am still your friend. Though I cannot take the case, I shall be glad, in a private way, toadvise you upon any matters you may care to lay before me. "

"You are very good. "

"Then you accept?"

"How can I refuse? Thank you. "

He accompanied her down the stairway and to the door. Heavy-hearted, she returned home. This was sad news to bring her father, whom buthalf an hour before she had so confidently cheered; and she knew notin what fresh direction to turn for aid. 

She went straight up to her father's room. With him she found astranger, who had a vague, far-distant familiarity. 

The two men rose. 

"This is my daughter, " said Doctor West. 

The stranger bowed slightly. 

"I have heard of Miss West, " he said, and in his manner Katherine'squick instinct read strong preconceived disapprobation. 

"And, Katherine, " continued her father, "this is Mr. Bruce. "

She stopped short. 

"Mr. Bruce of the _Express_?"

"Of the _Express_, " Bruce calmly repeated. 

Her dejected figure grew suddenly tense, and her cheeks glowed withhot colour. She moved up before the editor and gazed with flashingeyes into his square-jawed face. 

"So you are the man who wrote those brutal things about father?"

He bristled at her hostile tone and manner, and there was a quicksnapping behind the heavy glasses. 

"I am the man who wrote those true things about your father, " he saidwith cold emphasis. 

"And after that you dare come into this house!"

"Pardon me, Miss West, but a newspaper man dares go wherever hisbusiness takes him. "

She was trembling all over. 

"Then let me inform you that you have no business here. Neither myfather nor myself has anything whatever to say to yellow journalists!"

"Katherine! Katherine!" interjected her father. 

Bruce bowed, his face a dull red. 

"I shall leave, Miss West, just as soon as Doctor West answers my lastquestion. I called to see if he wished to make any statement, and Iwas asking him about his lawyer. He told me he had as yet securednone, but that you were applying to Mr. Blake. "

Doctor West stepped toward her eagerly. 

"Yes, Katherine, what did he say? Will he take the case?"

She turned from Bruce, and as she looked into the white, worn face ofher father, the fire of her anger went out. 

"He said--he said----"

"Yes--yes?"

She put her arms about him. 

"Don't you mind, father dear, what he said. "

Doctor West grew yet more pale. 

"Then--he said--the same as the others?"

She held him tight. 

"Dear daddy!"

"Then--he refused?"

"Yes--but don't you mind it, " she tried to say bravely. 

Without a sound, the old man's head dropped upon his chest. He held toKatherine a moment; then he moved waveringly to an old haircloth sofa, sank down upon it and bowed his face into his hands. 

Bruce broke the silence. 

"I am to understand, then, that your father has no lawyer?"

Katherine wheeled from the bowed figure, and her anger leapedinstantly to a white heat. 

"And why has he no lawyer?" she cried. "Because of the inhuman thingsyou wrote about him!"

"You forget, Miss West, that I am running a newspaper, and it is mybusiness to print the news. "

"The news, yes; but not a malignant, ferocious distortion of the news!Look at my father there. Does it not fill your soul with shame tothink of the black injustice you have done him?"

"Mere sentiment! Understand, I do not let conventional sentiment standbetween me and my duty. "

"Your duty!" There was a world of scorn in her voice. "And, pray, whatis your duty?"

"Part of it is to establish, and maintain, decent standards of publicservice in this town. "

"Don't hide behind that hypocritical pretence! I've heard about you. Iknow the sort of man you are. You saw a safe chance for a yellow storyfor your yellow newspaper, a safe chance to gain prominence by yelpingat the head of the pack. If he had been a rich man, if he had had astrong political party behind him, would you have dared assail him asyou have? Never! Oh, it was brutal--infamous--cowardly!"

There was an angry fire behind the editor's thick glasses, and hissquare chin thrust itself out. He took a step nearer. 

"Listen to me!" he commanded in a slow, defiant voice. "Your opinionis to me a matter of complete indifference. I tell you that a man whobetrays his city is a traitor, and that I would treat an old traitorexactly as I would treat a young traitor, I tell you that I take itas a sign of an awakening public conscience when reputable lawyersrefuse to defend a man who has done what your father has done. And, finally, I predict that, try as you may, you will not be able to finda decent lawyer who will dare to take his case. And I glory in it, andconsider it the result of my work!" He bowed to her. "And now, MissWest, I wish you good afternoon. "

She stood quivering, gasping, while he crossed to the door. As hishand fell upon the knob she sprang forward. 

"Wait!" she cried. "Wait! He has a lawyer!"

He paused. 

"Indeed! And whom?"

"One who is going to make you take back every cowardly word you haveprinted!"

"Who is it, Katherine?" It was her father who spoke. 

She turned. Doctor West had raised his head, and in his eyes was aneager, hopeful light. She bent over him and slipped an arm about hisshoulders. 

"Father dear, " she quavered, "since we can get no one else, will youtake me?"

"Take you?" he exclaimed. 

"Because, " she quavered on, "whether you will or not, I'm going tostay in Westville and be your lawyer. "

CHAPTER V

KATHERINE PREPARES FOR BATTLE

For a long space after Bruce had gone Katherine sat quiveringly uponthe old haircloth sofa beside her father, holding his hands tightly, caressingly. Her words tumbled hotly from her lips--words of love ofhim--of resentment of the injustice which he suffered--and, fiercestof all, of wrath against Editor Bruce, who had so ruthlessly, and forsuch selfish ends, incited the popular feeling against him. She wouldmake such a fight as Westville had never seen! She would show thoselawyers who had been reduced to cowards by Bruce's demagogy! She wouldbring the town humiliated to her father's feet!

But emotion has not only peaks, but plains, and dark valleys. As shecooled and her passion descended to a less exalted level, she began tosee the difficulties of, and her unfitness for, the rôle she had soimpulsively accepted. An uneasiness for the future crept upon her. Asshe had told Mr. Blake, she had never handled a case in court. True, she had been a member of the bar for two years, but her duties withthe Municipal League had consisted almost entirely in working upevidence in cases of municipal corruption for the use of her legalsuperiors. An untried lawyer, and a woman lawyer at that--surely aweak reed for her father to lean upon!

But she had thrown down the gage of battle; she had to fight, sincethere was no other champion; and even in this hour of emotion, whentears were so plenteous and every word was accompanied by a caress, she began to plan the preliminaries of her struggle. 

"I shall write to-night to the league for a leave of absence, " shesaid. "One of the things I must see to at once is to get admitted tothe state bar. Do you know when your case is to come up?"

"It has been put over to the September term of court. "

"That gives me four months. "

She was silently thoughtful for a space. "I've got to work hard, hard!upon your case. As I see it now, I am inclined to agree with you thatthe situation has arisen from a misunderstanding--that the agentthought you expected a bribe, and that you thought the bribe a smalldonation to the hospital. "

"I'm certain that's how it is, " said her father. 

"Then the thing to do is to see Doctor Sherman, and if possible theagent, have them repeat their testimony and try to search out in itthe clue to the mistake. And that I shall see to at once. "

Five minutes later Katherine left the house. After walking ten minutesthrough the quiet, maple-shaded back streets she reached the WabashAvenue Church, whose rather ponderous pile of Bedford stone was themost ambitious and most frequented place of worship in Westville, andwhose bulk was being added to by a lecture room now rising against itsside. 

Katherine went up a gravelled walk toward a cottage that stoodbeneath the church's shadow. The house's front was covered with awide-spreading rose vine, a tapestry of rich green which June wouldgorgeously embroider with sprays of heart-red roses. The cottagelooked what Katherine knew it was, a bower of lovers. 

Her ring was answered by a fair, fragile young woman whose eyes werethe colour of faith and loyalty. A faint colour crept into the youngwoman's pale cheeks. 

"Why--Katherine--why--why--I don't know what you think of us, but--but----" She could stammer out no more, but stood in the doorwayin distressed uncertainty. 

Katherine's answer was to stretch out her arms. "Elsie!" Instantlythe two old friends were in a close embrace. 

"I haven't slept, Katherine, " sobbed Mrs. Sherman, "for thinking ofwhat you would think----"

"I think that, whatever has happened, I love you just the same. "

"Thank you for saying it, Katherine. " Mrs. Sherman gazed at her intearful gratitude. "I can't tell you how we have suffered overthis--this affair. Oh, if you only knew!"

It was instinctive with Katherine to soothe the pain of others, thoughsuffering herself. "I am certain Doctor Sherman acted from the highestmotives, " she assured the young wife. "So say no more about it. "

They had entered the little sitting-room, hung with soft white muslincurtains. "But at the same time, Elsie, I cannot believe my fatherguilty, " Katherine went on. "And though I honour your husband, why, even the noblest man can be mistaken. My hope of proving my father'sinnocence is based on the belief that Doctor Sherman may somehow havemade a mistake. At any rate, I'd like to talk over his evidence withhim. "

"He's trying to work on his sermon, though he's too worn to think. I'll bring him right in. "

She passed through a door into the study, and a moment later reënteredwith Doctor Sherman. The present meeting would have been painful toan ordinary person; doubly so was it to such a hyper-sensitive nature. The young clergyman stood hesitant just within the doorway, his usualpallor greatly deepened, his thin fingers intertwisted--in doubt howto greet Katherine till she stretched out her hand to him. 

"I want you to understand, Katherine dear, " little Mrs. Sherman put inquickly, with a look of adoration at her husband, "that Edgar reachedthe decision to take the action he did only after days of agony. Youknow, Katherine, Doctor West was always as kind to me as anotherfather, and I loved him almost like one. At first I begged Edgar notto do anything. Edgar walked the floor for nights--suffering!--oh, howyou suffered, Edgar!"

"Isn't it a little incongruous, " said Doctor Sherman, smiling wanly ather, "for the instrument that struck the blow to complain, in thepresence of the victim, of _his_ suffering?"

"But I want her to know it!" persisted the wife. "She must know it todo you justice, dear! It seemed at first disloyal--but finally Edgardecided that his duty to the city----"

"Please say no more, Elsie. " Katherine turned to the pale youngminister. "Doctor Sherman, I have not come to utter one single word ofrecrimination. I have come merely to ask you to tell me all you knowabout the case. "

"I shall be glad to do so. "

"And could I also talk with Mr. Marcy, the agent?"

"He has left the city, and will not return till the trial. "

Katherine was disappointed by this news. Doctor Sherman, thoughobviously pained by the task, rehearsed in minutest detail the chargeshe had made against Doctor West, which charges he would later have torepeat upon the witness stand. Also he recounted Mr. Marcy's story. Katherine scrutinized every point in these two stories for the looseend, the loop-hole, the flaw, she had thought to find. But flaw therewas none. The stories were perfectly straightforward. 

Katherine walked slowly away, still going over and over DoctorSherman's testimony. Doctor Sherman was telling the indubitabletruth--yet her father was indubitably innocent. It was a puzzlingcase, this her first case--a puzzling, most puzzling case. 

When she reached home she was told by her aunt that a gentleman waswaiting to see her. She entered the big, old-fashioned parlour, freshand tasteful despite the stiff black walnut that, in the days of hermother's marriage, had been spread throughout the land as beauty bythe gentlemen who dealt conjointly in furniture and coffins. 

From a chair there rose a youthful and somewhat corpulent presence, with a chubby and very serious pink face that sat in a glossy highcollar as in a cup. He smiled with a blushful but ingratiatingdignity. 

"Don't you remember me? I'm Charlie Horn. "

"Oh!" And instinctively, as if to identify him by Charlie Horn'swell-remembered strawberry-marks, Katherine glanced at his hands. Butthey were clean, and the warts were gone. She looked at him in doubt. "You can't be Nellie Horn's little brother?"

"I'm not so little, " he said, with some resentment. "Since you knewme, " he added a little grandiloquently, "I've graduated fromBloomington. "

"Please pardon me! It was kind of you to call, and so soon. "

"Well, you see I came on business. I suppose you have seen thisafternoon's _Express_?"

She instinctively stiffened. 

"I have not. "

He drew out a copy of the _Express_, opened it, and pointed a plump, pinkish forefinger at the beginning of an article on the first page. 

"You see the _Express_ says you are going to be your father's lawyer. "

Katharine read the indicated paragraphs. Her colour heightened. Thestatement was blunt and bare, but between the lines she read thecontemptuous disapproval of the "new woman" that a few hours sinceBruce had displayed before her. Again her anger toward Bruce flaredup. 

"I am a reporter for the _Clarion_, " young Charlie Horn announced, striving not to appear too proud. "And I've come to interview you. "

"Interview me?" she cried in dismay. "What about?"

"Well, you see, " said he, with his benign smile, "you're the firstwoman lawyer that's ever been in Westville. It's almost a biggersensation than your fath--you see, it's a big story. "

He drew from his pocket a bunch of copy paper. "I want you to tell meabout how you are going to handle the case. And about what you think awoman lawyer's prospects are in Westville. And about what you thinkwill be woman's status in future society. And you might tell me, "concluded young Charlie Horn, "who your favourite author is, and whatyou think of golf. That last will interest our readers, for ourcountry club is very popular. "

It had been the experience of Nellie Horn's brother that the goodpeople of Westville were quite willing--nay, even had a subduedeagerness--to discourse about themselves, and whom they had visitedover Sunday, and who was "Sundaying" with them, and what beauties hadimpressed them most at Niagara Falls; and so that confident youngambassador from the _Clarion_ was somewhat dazed when, a moment later, he found himself standing alone on the West doorstep with a dim senseof having been politely and decisively wished good afternoon. 

But behind him amid the stiff, dark, solemn-visaged furniture(Calvinists, every chair of them!) he left a person far more dazedthan himself. Charlie Horn's call had brought sharply home toKatherine a question that, in the press of affairs, she hardly had asyet considered--how was Westville going to take to a woman lawyerbeing in its midst? She realized, with a chill of apprehension, howprofoundly this question concerned her next few months. Dear, bustling, respectable Westville, she well knew, clung to its own ideaof woman's sphere as to a thing divinely ordered, and to seek to leavewhich was scarcely less than rebellion against high God. Inpatriarchal days, when heaven's justice had been prompter, such adisobedient one would suddenly have found herself rebuked into a bitof saline statuary. 

Katherine vividly recalled, when she had announced her intention tostudy law, what a raising of hands there was, what a loud regrettingthat she had not a mother. But since she had not settled inWestville, and since she had not been actively practising in New York, the town had become partially reconciled. But this step of hers wasnew, without a precedent. How would Westville take it?

Her brain burned with this and other matters all afternoon, allevening, and till the dawn began to edge in and crowd the shadows fromher room. But when she met her father at the breakfast table her facewas fresh and smiling. 

"Well, how is my client this morning?" she asked gaily. "Do yourealize, daddy, that you are my first really, truly client?"

"And I suppose you'll be charging me something outrageous as a fee!"

"Something like this"--kissing him on the ear. "But how do you feel?"

"Certain that my lawyer will win my case. " He smiled. "And how areyou?"

"Brimful of ideas. "

"Yes? About the----"

"Yes. And about you. First, answer a few of your counsel's questions. Have you been doing much at your scientific work of late?"

"The last two months, since the water-works has been practicallycompleted, I have spent almost my whole time at it. "

"And your work was interesting?"

"Very. You see, I think I am on the verge of discovering that thetyphoid bacillus----"

"You'll tell me all about that later. Now the first order of yourattorney is, just as soon as you have finished your coffee and foldedyour napkin, back you go to your laboratory. "

"But, Katherine, with this affair----"

"This affair, worry and all, has been shifted off upon your eminentcounsel. Work will keep you from worry, so back you go to your darlinggerms. "

"You're mighty good, dear, but----"

"No argument! You've got to do just what your lawyer tells you. Andnow, " she added "as I may have to be seeing a lot of people, and ashaving people about the house may interrupt your work, I'm going totake an office. "

He stared at her. 

"Take an office?"

"Yes. Who knows--I may pick up a few other cases. If I do, I know whocan use the money. "

"But open an office in Westville! Why, the people----Won't it be alittle more unpleasant----" He paused doubtfully. "Did you see whatthe _Express_ had to say about you?"

She flushed, but smiled sweetly. 

"What the _Express_ said is one reason why I'm going to open anoffice. "

"Yes?"

"I'm not going to let fear of that Mr. Bruce dictate my life. Andsince I'm going to be a lawyer, I'm going to be the whole thing. Andwhat's more, I'm going to act as though I were doing the most ordinarything in the world. And if Mr. Bruce and the town want to talk, why, we'll just let 'em talk!"

"But--but--aren't you afraid?"

"Of course I'm afraid, " she answered promptly. "But when I realizethat I'm afraid to do a thing, I'm certain that that is just exactlythe thing for me to do. Oh, don't look so worried, dear"--she leanedacross and kissed him--"for I'm going to be the perfectest, properest, politest lady that ever scuttled a convention. And nothing is going tohappen to me--nothing at all. "

Breakfast finished, Katherine despotically led her father up to hislaboratory. A little later she set out for downtown, looking veryfresh in a blue summer dress that had the rare qualities of simplicityand grace. Her colour was perhaps a little warmer than was usual, butshe walked along beneath the maples with tranquil mien, seeminglyunconscious of some people she passed, giving others a clear, directglance, smiling and speaking to friends and acquaintances in her mosteasy manner. 

As she turned into Main Street the intelligence that she was comingseemed in some mysterious way to speed before her. Those exemplarsof male fashion, the dry goods clerks, craned furtively about frontdoors. Bare-armed and aproned proprietors of grocery stores and theirhirelings appeared beneath the awnings and displayed an unprecedentedconcern in trying to resuscitate, with aid of sprinkling-cans, bunchesof expiring radishes and young onions. Owners of amiable steeds thatdozed beside the curb hurried out of cavernous doors, the fear ofrun-away writ large upon their countenances, to see if a buckle wasnot loose or a tug perchance unfastened. Behind her, as she passed, Main Street stood statued in mid-action, strap in motionless hand, sprinkling-can tilting its entire contents of restorative over a boxof clothes-pins, and gaped and stared. This was epochal for Westville. Never before had a real, live, practising woman lawyer trod the cementwalk of Main Street. 

When Katherine came to Court House Square, she crossed to the southside, passed the _Express_ Building, and made for the HollingsworthBlock, whose first floor was occupied by the New York Store's"glittering array of vast and profuse fashion. " Above this alluringpageant were two floors of offices; and up the narrow stairway leadingthereunto Katherine mounted. She entered a door marked "HoseaHollingsworth. Attorney-at-Law. Mortgages. Loans. Farms. " In theroom were a table, three chairs, a case of law books, a desk, onthe top of the desk a "plug" hat, so venerable that it looked a verygreat-grandsire of hats, and two cuspidors marked with chromaticevidence that they were not present for ornament alone. 

From the desk there rose a man, perhaps seventy, lean, tall, smooth-shaven, slightly stooped, dressed in a rusty and wrinkled"Prince Albert" coat, and with a countenance that looked a rankplagiarism of the mask of Voltaire. In one corner of his thin mouth, half chewed away, was an unlighted cigar. 

"I believe this is Mr. Hollingsworth?" said Katherine. The questionwas purely formal, for his lank figure was one of her earliestmemories. 

"Yes. Come right in, " he returned in a high, nasal voice. 

She drew a chair away from the environs of the cuspidors and sat down. He resumed his place at his desk and peered at her through hisspectacles, and a dry, almost imperceptible smile played among thefine wrinkles of his leathery face. 

"And I believe this is Katherine West--our lady lawyer, " he remarked. "I read in the _Express_ how you----"

Bruce was on her nerves. She could not restrain a sudden flare oftemper. "The editor of that paper is a cad!"

"Well, he ain't exactly what you might call a hand-raised gentleman, "the old lawyer admitted. "At least, I never heard of his exertinghimself so hard to be polite that he strained any tendons. "

"You know him, then?"

"A little. He's my nephew. "

"Oh! I remember. "

"And we live together, " the old man loquaciously drawled on, eying herclosely with a smile that might have been either good-natured orsatirical. "Batch it--with a nigger who saves us work by stealingthings we'd otherwise have to take care of. We scrap most of the time. I make fun of him, and he gets sore. The trouble with the editor ofthe _Express_ is, he had a doting ma. He should have had an almightylot of thrashing when a boy, and instead he never tasted beech limbonce. He's suffering from the spared rod. "

Katherine had a shrinking from this old man; an aversion which in hermature years she had had no occasion to examine, but which she hadinherited unanalyzed from her childhood, when old Hosie Hollingsworthhad been the chief scandal of the town--an infidel, who had daredchallenge the creation of the earth in seven days, and yet was notstricken down by a fiery bolt from heaven! She did not pursue thesubject of Bruce, but went directly to her business. 

"I understand that you have an office to rent. "

"So I have. Like to see it?"

"That is what I called for. "

"Just come along with me. "

He rose, and Katherine followed him to the floor above and into a roomfurnished much as the one she had just left. 

"This office was last used, " commented old Hosie, "by a young fellowwho taught school down in Buck Creek Township and got money to studylaw with. He tried law for a while. " The old man's thin prehensilelips shifted his cigar to the other side of his mouth. "He's down inBuck Creek Township teaching school to get money to pay his backoffice rent. "

"How about the furniture?" asked Katherine. 

"That was his. He left it in part payment. You can use it if you wantto. "

"But I don't want those things about"--pointing gingerly to a pair ofcuspidors. 

"All right. Though I don't see how you expect to run a law office inWestville without 'em. " He bent over and took them in his hands. "I'lltake 'em along. I need a few more, for my business is picking up. "

"I suppose I can have possession at once. "

"Whenever you please. "

Standing with the cuspidors in his two hands the old lawyer looked herover. He slowly grinned, and a dry cackle came out of his lean throat. 

"I was born out there in Buck Creek Township myself, " he said. "Folksall Quakers, same as your ma's and your Aunt Rachel's. I was broughtup on plowing, husking corn and going to meeting. Never smiled tillafter I was twenty; wore a halo, size too large, that slipped down andmade my ears stick out. My grandfather's name was Elijah, my father'sElisha. My father had twelve sons, and beginning with me, Hosea, henamed 'em all in order after the minor prophets. Being brought up in ahouseful of prophets, naturally a lot of the gift of prophecy sort ofgot rubbed off on me. "

"Well?" said Katherine impatiently, not seeing the pertinence of thisautobiography. 

Again he shifted his cigar. "Well, when I prophesy, it's inspired, " hewent on. "And you can take it as the word that came unto Hosea, that awoman lawyer settling in Westville is going to raise the very dickensin this old town!"

CHAPTER VI

THE LADY LAWYER

When old Hosie had withdrawn with his expectorative plunder, Katherinesat down at the desk and gazed thoughtfully out of her window, takingin the tarnished dome of the Court House that rose lustreless abovethe elm tops and the heavy-boned farmhorses that stood about the ironhitch-racks of the Square, stamping and switching their tails indozing warfare against the flies. 

Once more, she began to go over the case. Having decided to test allpossible theories, she for the moment pigeon-holed the idea of amistake, and began to seek for other explanations. For a space shevacantly watched the workmen tearing down the speakers' stand. Butpresently her eyes began to glow, and she sprang up and excitedlypaced the little office. 

Perhaps her father had unwittingly and innocently become involved insome large system of corruption! Perhaps this case was the firstsymptom of the existence of some deep-hidden municipal disease!

It seemed possible--very possible. Her two years with the MunicipalLeague had taught her how common were astute dishonest practices. Theidea filled her. She began to burn with a feverish hope. But from thefirst moment she was sufficiently cool-headed to realize that tofollow up the idea she required intimate knowledge of Westvillepolitical conditions. 

Here she felt herself greatly handicapped. Owing to her long residenceaway from Westville she was practically in ignorance of publicaffairs--and she faced the further difficulty of having no one to whomshe could turn for information. Her father she knew could be of littleservice; expert though he was in his specialty, he was blind to evilin men. As for Blake, she did not care to ask aid from him so soonafter his refusal of assistance. And as for others, she felt that allwho could give her information were either hostile to her father orcritical of herself. 

For days the idea possessed her mind. She kept it to herself, and, hersuspicious eyes sweeping in all directions, she studied as best shecould to find some evidence or clue to evidence, that wouldcorroborate her conjecture. In her excited hope, she strove, while shethought and worked, to be indifferent to what the town might thinkabout her. But she was well aware that Old Hosie's prophecy was swiftin coming true--that a storm was raging, a storm of her own sex. Itshould be explained, however, in justice to them, that they forgot thefact, or never really knew it, that she had been forced to take herfather's case. To be sure, there was no open insult, no direct attack, no face-to-face denunciation; but piazzas buzzed indignantly with hername, and at the meeting of the Ladies' Aid the poor were forgotten, as at the Missionary Society were the unbibled heathen upon theforeign shore. 

Fragments of her sisters' pronouncements were wafted to Katherine'sears. "No self-respecting, womanly woman would ever think of wantingto be a lawyer"--"A forward, brazen, unwomanly young person"--"Adisgrace to the town, a disgrace to our sex"--"Think of the exampleshe sets to impressionable young girls; they'll want to break away anddo all sorts of unwomanly things"--"Everybody knows her reason forbeing a lawyer is only that it gives her a greater chance to be withthe men. "

Katherine heard, her mouth hardened, a certain defiance came into hermanner. But she went straight ahead seeking evidence to support hersuspicion. 

Every day made her feel more keenly her need of intimate knowledgeabout the city's political affairs; then, unexpectedly, and from anunexpected quarter, an informant stepped out upon her stage. Severaltimes Old Hosie Hollingsworth had spoken casually when they hadchanced to pass in the building or on the street. One day his lean, stooped figure appeared in her office and helped itself to a chair. 

"I see you haven't exactly made what Charlie Horn, in his dramaticcriticisms, calls an uproarious and unprecedented success, " heremarked, after a few preliminaries. 

"I have not been sufficiently interested to notice, " was her crispresponse. 

"That's right; keep your back up, " said he. "I've been agin abouteverything that's popular, and for everything that's unpopular, thatever happened in this town. I've been an 'agin-er' for fifty years. They'd have tarred and feathered me long ago if there'd been anyleading citizen unstingy enough to have donated the tar. Then, too, I've had a little money, and going through the needle's eye is easybusiness compared to losing the respect of Westville so long as you'vegot money--unless, of course, " he added, "you're a female lawyer. Itell you, there's no more fun than stirring up the animals in this oldtown. Any one unpopular in Westville is worth being friends with, andso if you're willing----"

He held out his thin, bony hand. Katherine, with no very markedenthusiasm, took it. Then her eyes gleamed with a new light; andobeying an impulse she asked:

"Are you acquainted with political conditions in Westville?"

"Me acquainted with----" He cackled. "Why, I've been setting at myoffice window looking down on the political circus of this town eversince Noah run aground on Mount Ararat. "

She leaned forward eagerly. 

"Then you know how things stand?"

"To a T. "

"Tell me, is there any rotten politics, any graft or corruption goingon?" She flushed. "Of course, I mean except what's charged against myfather. "

"When Blind Charlie Peck was in power, there was more graft anddirty----"

"Not then, but now?" she interrupted. 

"Now? Well, of course you know that since Blake run Blind Charlie outof business ten years ago, Blake has been the big gun in this town. "

"Yes, I know. "

"Then you must know that in the last ten years Westville has beentext, sermon, and doxology for all the reformers in the state. "

"But could not corruption be going on without Mr. Blake knowing it?Could not Mr. Peck be secretly carrying out some scheme?"

"Blind Charlie? Blind Charlie ain't dead yet, not by a long sight--andas long as there's a breath in his carcass, that good-natured oldblackguard is likely to be a dangerous customer. But though Charlie'sstill the boss of his party, he controls no offices, and has got noreal power. He's as helpless as Satan was after he'd been kicked outof heaven and before he'd landed that big job he holds on the floorbelow. Nowadays, Charlie just sits in his side office over at theTippecanoe House playing seven-up from breakfast till bedtime. "

"Then you think there's no corrupt politics in Westville?" she askedin a sinking voice. 

"Not an ounce of 'em!" said Old Hosie with decision. 

This agreed with the conviction that had been growing upon Katherineduring the last few days. While she had entertained suspicion of therebeing corruption, she had several times considered the advisability ofputting a detective on the case. But this idea she now abandoned. 

After this talk with the old lawyer, Katherine was forced back againupon misunderstanding. She went carefully over the records of herfather's department, on file in the Court House, seeking some itemthat would cast light upon the puzzle. She went over and over theindictment, seeking some loose end, some overlooked inconsistency, that would yield her at least a clue. 

For days she kept doggedly at this work, steeling herself against thedisapprobation of the town. But she found nothing. Then, in a flash, an overlooked point recurred to her. The trouble, so went her theory, was all due to a confusion of the bribe with the donation to thehospital. Where was that donation?

Here was a matter that might at last lead to a solution of thedifficulty. Again on fire with hope, she interviewed her father. Hewas certain that a donation had been promised, he had thought theenvelope handed him by Mr. Marcy contained the gift--but of thedonation itself he knew no more. She interviewed Doctor Sherman; hehad heard Mr. Marcy refer to a donation but knew nothing about thematter. She tried to get in communication with Mr. Marcy, only tolearn that he was in England studying some new filtering plantsrecently installed in that country. Undiscouraged, she one day steppedoff the train in St. Louis, the home of the Acme Filter, and appearedin the office of the company. 

The general manager, a gentleman who ran to portliness in his figure, his jewellery and his courtesy, seemed perfectly acquainted with thecase. In exculpation of himself and his company, he said that theywere constantly being held up by every variety of official from acounty commissioner to a mayor, and they were simply forced to give"presents" in order to do business. 

"But my father's defense, " put in Katherine, "was that he thought this'present' was in reality a donation to the hospital. Was anything saidto my father about a donation?"

"I believe there was. "

"That corroborates my father!" Katherine exclaimed eagerly. "Would youmake that statement at the trial--or at least give me an affidavit tothat effect?"

"I'll be glad to give you an affidavit. But I should explain that the'present' and the donation were two distinctly separate affairs. "

"Then what became of the donation?" Katherine cried triumphantly. 

"It was sent, " said the manager. 

"Sent?"

"I sent it myself, " was the reply. 

Katherine left St. Louis more puzzled than before. What had become ofthe check, if it had really been sent? Home again, she ransacked herfather's desk with his aid, and in a bottom drawer they found a heapof long-neglected mail. 

Doctor West at first scratched his head in perplexity. "I remembernow, " he said. "I never was much of a hand to keep up with my letters, and for the few days before that celebration I was so excited that Ijust threw everything----"

But Katherine had torn open an envelope and was holding in her hands afifty dollar check from the Acme Filter Company. 

"What was the date of your arrest?" she asked sharply. "The date Mr. Marcy gave you that money?"

"The fifteenth of May. "

"This check is dated the twelfth of May. The envelope shows it wasreceived in Westville on the thirteenth. "

"Well, what of that?"

"Only this, " said Katherine slowly, and with a chill at her heart, "that the prosecution can charge, and we cannot disprove the charge, that the real donation was already in your possession at the time youaccepted what you say you believed was the donation. "

Then, with a rush, a great temptation assailed Katherine--to destroythis piece of evidence unfavourable to her father which she held inher hands. For several moments the struggle continued fiercely. Butshe had made a vow with herself when she had entered law that she wasgoing to keep free from the trickery and dishonourable practices socommon in her profession. She was going to be an honest lawyer, or beno lawyer at all. And so, at length, she laid the check before herfather. 

"Just indorse it, and we'll send it in to the hospital, " she said. 

Afterward it occurred to her that to have destroyed the check would atthe best have helped but little, for the prosecution, if it sodesired, could introduce witnesses to prove that the donation had beensent. Suspicion of having destroyed or suppressed the check would theninevitably have rested upon her father. 

This discovery of the check was a heavy blow, but Katherine wentdoggedly back to the first beginnings; and as the weeks crept slowlyby she continued without remission her desperate search for a cluewhich, followed up, would make clear to every one that the wholeaffair was merely a mistake. But the only development of the summerwhich bore at all upon the case--and that bearing seemed to Katherineindirect--was that, since early June, the service of the water-workshad steadily been deteriorating. There was frequently a shortage inthe supply, and the filtering plant, the direct cause of Doctor West'sdisgrace, had proved so complete a failure that its use had beendiscontinued. The water was often murky and unpleasant to the taste. Moreover, all kinds of other faults began to develop in the plant. Thecity complained loudly of the quality of the water and the failure ofthe system. It was like one of these new-fangled toys, averred thestreet corners, that runs like a miracle while the paint is on it andthen with a whiz and a whir goes all to thunder. 

But to this mere by-product of the case Katherine gave little thought. She had to keep desperately upon the case itself. At times, feelingherself so alone, making no inch of headway, her spirits sank very lowindeed. What made the case so wearing on the soul was that she wasgroping in the dark. She was fighting an invisible enemy, even thoughit was no more than a misunderstanding--an enemy whom, strive as shewould, she could not clutch, with whom she could not grapple. Againand again she prayed for a foe in the open. Had there been a fight, nomatter how bitter, her part would have been far, far easier--for infight there is action and excitement and the lifting hope of victory. 

It took courage to work as she did, weary week upon weary week, anddiscover nothing. It took courage not to slink away at the town'sdisapprobation. At times, in the bitterness of her heart, she wishedshe were out of it all, and could just rest, and be friends with everyone. In such moods it would creep coldly in upon her that there couldbe but one solution to the case--that after all her father must beguilty. But when she would go home and look into his thoughtful, unworldy old face, that solution would instantly become impossible;and she would cast out doubt and despair and renew her determination. 

The weeks dragged heavily on--hot and dusty after the first of July, and so dry that out in the country the caked earth was a fine networkof zigzagging fissures, and the farmers, gazing despondently upontheir shrivelling corn, watched with vain hope for a rescuing cloud todarken the clear, hard, brilliant heavens. At length the summer burnedto its close; the opening day of the September term of court was closeat hand. But still the case stood just as on the day Katherine hadstepped so joyously from the Limited. The evidence of Sherman wasunshaken. The charges of Bruce had no answer. 

One afternoon--her father's case was set for two days later--asKatherine left her office, desperate, not knowing which way to turn, her nerves worn fine and thin by the long strain, she saw her father'sname on the front page of the _Express_. She bought a copy. In thecentre of the first page, in a "box" and set in heavy-faced type, wasan editorial in Bruce's most rousing style, trying her father inadvance, declaring him flagrantly guilty, and demanding for him thelaw's extremest penalty. 

That editorial unloosed her long-collected wrath--wrath that had manya reason. In Bruce's person Katherine had from the first seen thesumming up, the leader, of the bitterness against her father. Allsummer he had continued his sharp attacks, and the virulence of thesehad helped keep the town wrought up against Doctor West. Moreover, Katherine despised Bruce as a powerful, ruthless, demagogic hypocrite. And to her hostility against him in her father's behalf and to hercontempt for his quack radicalism, was added the bitter implacabilityof the woman who feels herself scorned. The town's attitude toward hershe resented. But Bruce she hated, and him she prayed with all hersoul that she might humble. 

She crushed the _Express_, flung it from her into the gutter, andwalked home all a-tremble. Her aunt met her in the hall as she waslaying off her hat. A spot burned faintly in either withered cheek ofthe old woman. 

"Who does thee think is here?" she asked. 

"Who?" Katherine repeated mechanically, her wrath too high forinterest in anything else. 

"Mr. Bruce. Upstairs with thy father. "

"What!" cried Katherine. 

Her hat missed the hook and fell to the floor, and she went springingup the stairway. The next instant she flung open her father's door, and walked straight up to Bruce, before whom she paused, bosomheaving, eyes on fire. 

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. 

His powerful figure rose, and his square-hewn face looked directlyinto her own. 

"Interviewing your father, " he returned with his aggressive calm. 

"He was asking me to confess, " explained Doctor West. 

"Confess?" cried Katherine. 

"Just so, " replied Bruce. "His guilt is undoubted, so he might as wellconfess. "

Scorn flamed at him. 

"I see! You are trying to get a confession out of him, in advance ofthe trial, as a big feature for your terrible paper!"

She moved a pace nearer him. All the suppressed anger, all the hiddenanguish, of the last three months burst up volcanically. 

"Oh! oh!" she cried breathlessly. "I never dreamt till I met you thata man could be so low, so heartless, as to hound an old man as youhave hounded my father--and all for the sake of a yellow newspapersensation. But he's a safe man for you to attack. Yes, he's safe--old, unpopular, helpless!"

Bruce's heavy brows lowered. He did not give back a step before herireful figure. 

"And because he's old and unpopular I should not attack him, eh?" hedemanded. "Because he's down, I should not hit him? That's yourwoman's reasoning, is it? Well, let me tell you, " and his gray eyesflashed, and his voice had a crunching tone--"that I believe whenyou've got an enemy of society down, don't, because you pity him, lethim up to go and do the same thing again. While you've got him down, keep on hitting him till you've got him finished!"

"Like the brute that you are!" she cried. "But, like the coward youare, you first very carefully choose your 'enemy of society. ' You werecareful to choose one who could not hit back!"

"I did not choose your father. He thrust himself upon the town'sattention. And I consider neither his weakness nor his strength. Iconsider only the fact that your father has done the city a greaterinjury than any man who ever lived in Westville. "

"It's a lie! I tell you it's a lie!"

"It's the truth!" he declared harshly, dominantly. "His swindlingWestville by giving us a worthless filtering-plant in return for abribe--why, that is the smallest evil he has done the town. Beforethat time, Westville was on the verge of making great municipaladvances--on the verge of becoming a model and a leader for the smallcities of the Middle West. And now all that grand development isruined--and ruined by that man, your father!" He excitedly jerked apaper from his pocket and held it out to her. "If you want to seewhat he has brought us to, read that editorial in the _Clarion_!"

She fixed him with glittering eyes. 

"I have read one cowardly editorial to-day in a Westville paper. Thatis enough. "

"Read that, I say!" he commanded. 

For answer she took the _Clarion_ and tossed it into the waste-basket. She glared at him, quivering all over, in her hands a convulsive itchfor physical vengeance. 

"If I thought that in all your fine talk about the city there was onesingle word of sincerity, I might respect you, " she said with slow andscathing contempt. "But your words are the words of a mere poseur--ofa man who twists the truth to fit his desires--of a man who deals inthe ideas that seem to him most profitable--of a man who cares not howpoor, how innocent, is the body he uses as a stepping stone for hisclambering greed and ambition. Oh, I know you--I have watched you--Ihave read you. You are a mere self-seeker! You are a demagogue! Youare a liar! And, on top of that, you are a coward!"

Whatever Arnold Bruce was, he was a man with a temper. Fury wasblazing behind his heavy spectacles. 

"Go on! I care _that_ for the words of a woman who has so littletaste, so little sense, so little modesty, as to leave the sphere----"

"You boor!" gasped Katharine. 

"Perhaps I am. At least I am not afraid to speak the truth straightout even to a woman. You are all wrong. You are unwomanly. You areunsexed. Your pretensions as a lawyer are utterly preposterous, as thetrial on Thursday will show you. And the condemnation of the town isnot half as severe a rebuke----"

"Stop!" gasped Katherine. A wild defiance surged up and overmasteredher, her nerves broke, and her hot words tumbled out hysterically. "You think you are a God-anointed critic of humanity, but you are onlya heartless, conceited cad! Just wait--I'll show you what yourjudgment of me is worth! I am going to clear my father! I am going tomake this Westville that condemns me kneel at my feet! and as foryou--you can think what you please! But don't you ever dare to speakto my father again--don't you ever dare speak to me again--don't youever dare enter this house again! Now go! Go! I say. Go! Go! Go!"

His face had grown purple; he seemed to be choking. For a space hegazed at her. Then without answering he bowed slightly and was gone. 

She glared a moment at the door. Then suddenly she collapsed upon thefloor, her head and arms on the old haircloth sofa, and her whole bodyshook with silent sobs. Doctor West, first gazing at her a littlehelplessly, sat down upon the sofa, and softly stroked her hair. For atime there were no words--only her convulsive breathing, her chokingsobs. 

Presently he said gently:

"I'm sure you'll do everything you said. "

"No--that's the trouble, " she moaned. "What I said--was--was just abig bluff. I won't do any--of those things. Your trial is two daysoff--and, father, I haven't one bit of evidence--I don't know whatwe're going to do--and the jury will have to--oh, father, father, thatman was right; I'm just--just a great big failure!"

Again she shook with sobs. The old man continued to sit beside her, softly stroking her thick brown hair. 

CHAPTER VII

THE MASK FALLS

But presently the sobs subsided, as though shut off by main force, andKatherine rose to her feet. She wiped her eyes and looked at herfather, a wan smile on her reddened, still tremulous face. 

"What a hope-inspiring lawyer you have, father!"

"I would not want a truer, " said he loyally. 

"We won't have one of these cloud-bursts again, I promise you. Butwhen you have been under a strain for months, and things are stretchedtighter and tighter, and at last something makes things snap, why youjust can't help--well, " she ended, "a man would have done somethingelse, I suppose, but it might have been just as bad. "

"Worse!" avowed her father. 

"Anyhow, it's all over. I'll just repair some of the worst ravages ofthe storm, and then we'll talk about our programme for the trial. "

As she was arranging her hair before her father's mirror, she saw, inthe glass, the old man stoop and take something from the waste-basket. Turning his back to her, he cautiously examined the object. 

She left the mirror and came up behind him. 

"What are you looking at, dear?"

He started, and glanced up. 

"Oh--er--that editorial Mr. Bruce referred to. " He rubbed his headdazedly. "If that should happen, with me even indirectly the cause ofit--why, Katherine, it really would be pretty bad!" He held out the_Clarion_. "Perhaps, after all, you had better read it. "

She took the paper. The _Clarion_ had from the first opposed thecity's owning the water-works, and the editorial declared that thepresent situation gave the paper, and all those who had held a similaropinion, their long-awaited triumph and vindication. "This failure isonly what invariably happens whenever a city tries municipalownership, " declared the editorial. "The situation has grown sounbearably acute that the city's only hope of good water lies in thesale of the system to some private concern, which will give us thatsuperior service which is always afforded by private capital. Westville is upon the eve of a city election, and we most emphaticallyurge upon both parties that they make the chief plank of theirplatforms the immediate sale of our utterly discredited water-worksto some private company. "

The editorial did not stir Katherine as it had appeared to stir Bruce, nor even in the milder degree it had stirred Doctor West. She wasinterested in the water-works only in so far as it concerned herfather, and the _Clarion's_ proposal had no apparent bearing on hisguilt or innocence. 

She laid the _Clarion_ on the table, without comment, and proceeded todiscuss the coming trial. The only course she had to suggest was thatthey plead for a postponement on the ground that they needed more timein which to prepare their defense. If that plea were denied, thenbefore them seemed certain conviction. On that plea, then, theydecided to place all their hope. 

When this matter had been talked out Doctor West took the _Clarion_from the table and again read the editorial with troubled face, whileKatherine walked to and fro across the floor, her mind all on thetrial. 

"If the town does sell, it will be too bad!" he sighed. 

"I suppose so, " said Katherine mechanically. 

"It has reached me that people are saying that the system isn't worthanything like what we paid for it. "

"Is that so?" she asked absently. 

Doctor West drew himself up and his faded cheeks flushed indignantly. 

"No, it is not so. I don't know what's wrong, but it's the very bestsystem of its size in the Middle West!"

She paused. 

"Forgive me--I wasn't paying any attention to what I was saying. I'msure it is. "

She resumed her pacing. 

"But if they sell out to some company, " Doctor West continued, "thecompany will probably get it for a third, or less, of what it isactually worth. "

"So, if some corporation has been secretly wanting to buy it, "commented Katherine, "things could not have worked out better for thecorporation if they had been planned. "

She came to a sudden pause, and stood gazing at her father, her lipsslowly parting. 

"It could not have worked out better for the corporation if it hadbeen planned, " she repeated. 

"No, " said Doctor West. 

She picked up the _Clarion_, quickly read the editorial, and laid thepaper aside. 

"Father!" Her voice was a low, startled cry. 

"Yes?"

She moved slowly toward him, in her face a breathless look, and caughthis shoulders with tense hands. 

"_Perhaps it was planned!_"

"What?"

Her voice rang out more loudly:

"_Perhaps it was planned!_"

"But Katherine--what do you mean?"

"Let me think. Let me think. " She began feverishly to pace the room. "Oh, why did I not think of this before!" she cried to herself. "Ithought of graft--political corruption--everything else. But it neveroccurred to me that there might be a plan, a subtle, deep-laid plan, to steal the water-works!"

Doctor West watched her rather dazedly as she went up and down thefloor, her brows knit, her lips moving in self-communion. Herconnection with the Municipal League in New York had given her anintimate knowledge of the devious means by which public servicecorporations sometimes gain their end. Her mind flashed over all thesituation's possibilities. 

Suddenly she paused before her father, face flushed, triumph in hereyes. 

"Father, _it was planned!_"

"Eh?" said he. 

"Father, " she demanded excitedly, "do you know what the great publicservice corporations are doing now?" Her words rushed on, not waitingfor an answer. "They have got hold of almost all the valuable publicutilities in the great cities, and now they are turning to a freshfield--the small cities. Westville is a rich chance in a small way. Ithas only thirty thousand inhabitants now. But it is growing. Some dayit will have fifty thousand--a hundred thousand. "

"That's what people say. "

"If a private company could get hold of the water-works, the systemwould not only be richly profitable at once, but it would be worth afortune as the city grows. Now if a company, a clever company, wantedto buy in the water-works, what would be their first move?"

"To make an offer, I suppose. "

"Never! Their first step would be to try to make the people want tosell. And how would they try to make the people want to sell?"

"Why--why----"

"By making the water-works fail!" Her excitement was mounting; shecaught his shoulders. "Fail so badly that the people would bedisgusted, just as they now are, and willing to sell at any price. And now, father--and now, father--" he could feel her quivering allover--"listen to me! We're coming to the point! How would they makethe water-works fail?"

He could only blink at her. 

"They'd make it fail by removing from office, and so disgracinghim that everything he had done would be discredited, the oneincorruptible man whose care and knowledge had made it a success!Don't you see, father? Don't you see?"

"Bless me, " said the old man, "if I know what you're talking about!"

"With you out of the way, whom they knew they could not corrupt, theycould buy under officials to attend to the details of making the waterbad and the plant itself a failure--just exactly what has been done. You are not the real victim. You are just an obstruction--somethingthat they had to get out of the way. The real victim is Westville!It's a plan to rob the city!"

His gray eyes were catching the light that blazed from hers. 

"I begin to see, " he said. "It hardly seems possible people would dosuch things. But perhaps you're right. What are you going to do?"

"Fight!"

"Fight?" He looked admiringly at her glowing figure. "But if there isa strong company behind all this, for you to fight it alone--it willbe an awful big fight!"

"I don't care how big the fight is!" she cried exultantly. "What hasalmost broken my heart till now is that there has been no one tofight!"

A shadow fell on the old man's face. 

"But after all, Katherine, it is all only a guess. "

"Of course it is only a guess!" she cried. "But I have tested everyother possible solution. This is the only one left, and it fits everyknown circumstance of the case. It is only a guess--but I'll stake mylife on its being the right guess!" Her voice rose. "Oh, father, we'reon the right track at last! We're going to clear you! Don't you everdoubt that. We're going to clear you!"

There was no resisting the ringing confidence in her voice, the fireof her enthusiasm. 

"Katherine!" he cried, and opened his arms. 

She rushed into them. "We're going to clear you, father! And, oh, won't it be fine! Won't it be fine!"

For a space they held each other close, then they parted. 

"What are you going to do first?" he asked. 

"Try to find the person, or corporation, behind the scheme. "

"And how will you do that?"

"First, I shall talk it over with Mr. Blake. You know he told me tocome to him if I ever wished his advice. He knows the situationhere--he has the interests of Westville at heart--and I know he willhelp us. I'm not going to lose a second, so I'm off to see him now. "

She rushed downstairs. But she did have to lose a second, and many ofthem, for when she called up Mr. Blake's office on the telephone, theanswer came back that Mr. Blake was in the capital and would notreturn till the following day on the one forty-five. It occurred toKatherine to advise with old Hosie Hollingsworth, for during the longsummer her blind, childish shrinking had changed to warm liking of thedry old lawyer; and she had discovered, too, that the heresies it hadbeen his delight to utter a generation before--and on which he stillprided himself--were now a part of the belief of many an orthodoxdivine. 

But she decided against conferring with Old Hosie. Her adviser andleader must be a man more actively in the current of modern affairs. No, Blake was her great hope, and precious and few as were the hoursbefore the trial, there was nothing for it but to wait for his return. 

She went up to her room, and her excited mind, now half inspired, wentfeverishly over the situation and all who were in any wise concernedin it. She thought of the fifty dollar check from the Acme FilterCompany. With her new viewpoint she now understood the wholebewildering business of that check. The company, or at least one ofits officers, was somehow in on the deal, and there had been somecareful scheming behind the sending of that fifty dollars. Thecompany had been confronted with two obvious difficulties. First, ithad to make certain that the check would not be received until afterthe two thousand dollars was in the hands of her father. Second, thedate of the check and the date of the Westville postmark must beearlier than the day the two thousand dollars was delivered--elseDoctor West could produce check and envelope to prove that the checkhad not arrived until after he had already accepted what he thoughtwas the donation, and thus perhaps ruin the whole scheme. What hadbeen done, Katherine now clearly perceived, was that some one, mostprobably an assistant of her father, had been bought over to look outfor the arrival of the letter, to hold it back until the critical dayhad passed, and then slip it into her father's neglected mail. 

Her mind raced on to further matters, further persons, connected withthe situation. When she came to Bruce her hands clenched the arms ofher wicker rocking chair. In a flash the whole man was plain to her, and her second great discovery of the day was made. 

Bruce was an agent of the hidden corporation!

The motive behind his fierce desire to destroy her father was at lastapparent. To destroy Doctor West was his part in the conspiracy. Asfor his rabid advocacy of municipal ownership, and all his fine talkabout the city's betterment, that was mere sham--merely the virtuousfront behind which he could work out his purpose unsuspected. No onecould quote the scripture of civic improvement more loudly than thecivic despoiler. She always had distrusted him. Now she knew him. Manya time through the night her mind flashed back to him from othermatters and she thrilled with a vengeful joy at the thought of tearingaside his mask. 

It was a long and feverish night to Katherine, and a long and feverishforenoon. At a quarter to two she was in Blake's office, which wasfurnished with just that balance between simplicity and richnessappropriate to a growing great man with a constituency half of thecity and half of the country. She had sat some time at a windowlooking down upon the Square, its foliage now a dusty, shrivelledbrown, when Blake came in. He had not been told that she was waiting, and at sight of her he came to a sudden pause. But the next instant hehad crossed the room and was shaking her hand. 

For that first instant Katherine's eyes and mind, which during thelast twenty-four hours had had an almost more than mortal clearness, had an impression that he was strangely agitated. But the moment over, the impression was gone. 

He placed a chair for her at the corner of his desk and himself satdown, his dark, strong, handsome face fixed on hers. 

"Now, how can I serve you, Katherine?"

There were rings about her eyes, but excitement gave her colour. 

"You know that to-morrow is father's trial?"

"Yes. You must have a hard, hard fight before you. "

"Perhaps not so hard as you may think. " She tried to keep her tuggingexcitement in leash. 

"I hope not, " said he. 

"I think it may prove easy--if you will help me. "

"Help you?"

"Yes. I have come to ask you that again. "

"Well--you see--as I told you----"

"But the situation has changed since I first came to you, " she put inquickly, not quite able to restrain a little laugh. "I have foundsomething out!"

He started. "You have found--you say----"

"I have found something out!"

She smiled at him happily, triumphantly. 

"And that?" said he. 

She leaned forward. 

"I do not need to tell you, for you know it, that the big corporationshave discovered a new gold mine--or rather, thousands of little goldmines. That all over the country they have gained control, and areworking to gain control, of the street-car lines, gas works and otherpublic utilities in the smaller cities. "

"Well?"

She spoke excitedly, putting the case more definitely than it reallywas, to better the chance of winning his aid. 

"Well, I have just discovered that there is a plan on foot, directedby a hidden some one, to seize the water-works of Westville. I havediscovered that my father is not guilty. He is the victim of a trickto ruin the water-works and make the people willing to sell. The firstthing to do is to find the man behind the scheme. I want you to helpme find this man. "

A greenish pallor had overspread his features. 

"And you want me--to find this man?" he repeated. 

"Yes. I know you will take this up, simply because of your interest inthe city. But there is another reason--it would help you in yourlarger ambition. If you could disclose this scheme, save the city, become the hero of a great popular gratitude, think how it would helpyour senatorial chances!"

He did not at once reply, but sat staring at her. 

"Don't you see?" she cried. 

"I--I see. "

"Why, it would turn your chance for the Senate into a certainty! Itwould--but, Mr. Blake, what's the matter?"

"Matter, " he repeated, huskily. "Why--why nothing. "

She gazed at him with deep concern. "But you look almost sick. "

In his eyes there struggled a wild look. Her gaze became fixed uponhis face, so strangely altered. In her present high-wrought state allher senses were excited to their intensest keenness. 

There was a moment of silence--eyes into eyes. Then she stood slowlyup, and one hand reached slowly out and clutched his arm. 

"Mr. Blake!" she whispered, in an awed and terrified tone. Shecontinued to stare into his eyes. "Mr. Blake!" she repeated. 

She felt a tensing of his body, as of a man who seeks to masterhimself with a mighty effort. He tried to smile, though his greenishpallor did not leave him. 

"It is my turn, " he said, "to ask what is the matter with you, Katherine. "

"Mr. Blake!" She loosed her hold upon his arm, and shrank away. 

He rose. 

"What is the matter?" he repeated. "You seem upset. I suppose it isthe nervous strain of to-morrow's trial. "

In her face was stupefied horror. 

"It is what--what I have discovered. "

"What you call your discovery would be most valuable, if true. But itis just a dream, Katherine--a crazy, crazy dream. "

She still was looking straight into his eyes. 

"Mr. Blake, it is true, " she said slowly, almost breathlessly. "For Ihave found the man behind the plan. "

"Indeed! And who?"

"I think you know him, Mr. Blake. "

"I?"

"Better than any one else. "

His smile had left him. 

"Who?"

She continued to stare at him for a moment in silence. Then she slowlyraised her arm and pointed at him. 

The silence continued for several moments, each gazing at the other. He had put one hand upon his desk and was leaning heavily upon it. Helooked like a man sick unto death. But soon a shiver ran through him;he swallowed, gripped himself in a strong control, and smiled againhis strained, unnatural smile. 

"Katherine, Katherine, " he tried to say it reprovingly andindulgently, but there was a quaver in his voice. "You have gone quiteout of your head!"

"It is true!" she cried. "All unintentionally I have followed one ofthe oldest of police expedients. I have suddenly confronted thecriminal with his crime, and I have surprised his guilt upon hisface!"

"What you say is absurd. I can explain it only on the theory that youare quite out of your mind. "

"Never before was I so much in it!"

In this moment when she felt that the hidden enemy she had striven solong to find was at last revealed to her, she felt more of anguishthan of triumph. 

"Oh, how could you do such a thing, Mr. Blake?" she burst out. "Howcould you do it?"

He shook his head, and tried to smile at her perversity--but the smilewas a wan failure. 

"I see--I see!" she cried in her pain. "It is just the old story. Agood man rises to power through being the champion of the people--and, once in power, the opportunities, the temptation, are too much forhim. But I never--no, never!--thought that such a thing would happenwith you!"

He strove for the injured air of the misjudged old friend. 

"Again I must say that I can only explain your charges by supposingthat you are out of your head. "

"Here in Westville you believe it is not woman's business to thinkabout politics, " Katherine went on, in her voice of pain. "But I couldnot help thinking about them, and watching them. I have lost my faithin the old parties, but I had kept my faith in some of their leaders. I believe some of them honest, devoted, indomitable. And of them all, the one I admired most, ranked highest, was you. And now--and now--oh, Mr. Blake!--to learn that you----"

"Katherine! Katherine!" And he raised his hands with the manner ofexasperated, yet indulgent, helplessness. 

"Mr. Blake, you know you are now only playing a part! And you knowthat I know it!" She moved up to him eagerly. "Listen to me, " shepleaded rapidly. "You have only started on this, you have not gone toofar to turn back. You have done no real wrong as yet, save to myfather, and I know my father will forgive you. Drop your plan--let myfather be honourably cleared--and everything will be just as before!"

For a space he seemed shaken by her words. She watched him, breathless, awaiting the outcome of the battle she felt was wagingwithin him. 

"Drop the plan--do!--do!--I beg you!" she cried. 

His dark face twitched; a quivering ran through his body. Then by amighty effort he partially regained his mastery. 

"There is no plan for me to drop, " he said huskily. 

"You still cling to the part you are playing?"

"I am playing no part; you are all wrong about me, " he continued. "Your charges are so absurd that it would be foolish to deny them. They are merely the ravings of an hysterical woman. "

"And this is your answer?"

"That is my answer. "

She gazed at him for a long moment. Then she sighed. 

"I'm so sorry!" she said; and she turned away and moved toward thedoor. 

She gave him a parting look, as he stood pale, quivering, yetcontrolled, behind his desk. In this last moment she remembered thegallant fight this man had made against Blind Charlie Peck; sheremembered that fragrant, far-distant night of June when he had askedher to marry him; and she felt as though she were gazing for the lasttime upon a dear dead face. 

"I'm sorry--oh, so sorry!" she said tremulously. "Good-by. " Andturning, she walked with bowed head out of his office. 

CHAPTER VIII

THE EDITOR OF THE _EXPRESS_

Katherine stumbled down into the dusty, quivering heat of the Square. She was still awed and dumfounded by her discovery; she could not asyet realize its full significance and whither it would lead; but hermind was a ferment of thoughts that were unfinished and questions thatdid not await reply. 

How had a man once so splendid come to sell his soul for money orambition? What would Westville think and do, Westville who worshippedhim, if it but knew the truth? How was she to give battle to anantagonist, so able in himself, so powerfully supported by the public?What a strange caprice of fate it was that had given her as the manshe must fight, defeat, or be defeated by, her former idol, her formerlover!

Shaken with emotion, her mind shot through with these fragmentarythoughts, she turned into a side street. But she had walked beneathits withered maples no more than a block or two, when her largestimmediate problem, her father's trial on the morrow, thrust itselfinto her consciousness, and the pressing need of further action droveall this spasmodic speculation from her mind. She began to think uponwhat she should next do. Almost instantly her mind darted to the manwhom she had definitely connected with the plot against her father, Arnold Bruce, and she turned back toward the Square, afire with a newidea. 

She had made great advance through suddenly, though unintentionally, confronting Blake with knowledge of his guilt. Might she not make somefurther advance, gain some new clue, by confronting Bruce in similarmanner?

Ten minutes after she had left the office of Harrison Blake, Katherineentered the _Express_ Building. From the first floor sounded a deepand continuous thunder; that afternoon's issue was coming from thepress. She lifted her skirts and gingerly mounted the stairway, overwhich the _Express's_ "devil" was occasionally seen to makeincantations with the stub of an undisturbing broom. 

At the head of the stairway a door stood open. This she entered, andfound herself in the general editorial room, ankle-deep with dirt andpaper. The air of the place told that the day's work was done. In onecorner a telegraph sounder was chattering its tardy world-gossip tounheeding ears. In the centre at a long table, typewriters beforethem, three shirt-sleeved young men sprawled at ease reading the_Express_, which the "devil" had just brought them from the netherregions, moist with the black spittle of the beast that there roaredand rumbled. 

At sight of her tall, fresh figure, a red spot in her either cheek, defiance in her brown eyes, Billy Harper, quicker than the rest, sprang up and crossed the room. 

"Miss West, I believe, " he said. "Can I do anything for you?"

"I wish to speak with Mr. Bruce, " was her cold reply. 

"This way, " and Billy led her across the wilderness of proofs, discarded copy and old newspapers, to a door beside the stairway thatled down into the press-room. "Just go right in, " he said. 

She entered. Bruce, his shirt-sleeves rolled up and his baredfore-arms grimy, sat glancing through the _Express_, his feet crossedon his littered desk, a black pipe hanging from one corner of hismouth. He did not look round but turned another page. 

"Well, what's the matter?" he grunted between his teeth. 

"I should like a few words with you, " said Katherine. 

"Eh!" His head twisted about. "Miss West!"

His feet suddenly dropped to the floor, and he stood up and laid thepipe upon his desk. For the moment he was uncertain how to receiveher, but the bright, hard look in her eyes fixed his attitude. 

"Certainly, " he said in a brusque, businesslike tone. He placed theatlas-bottomed chair near his own. "Be seated. "

She sat down, and he took his own chair. 

"I am at your service, " he said. 

Her cheeks slowly gathered a higher colour, her eyes gleamed with apre-triumphant fire, and she looked straight into his square, rathermassive face. Over Blake she had felt an infinity of regret and pain. For this man she felt only boundless hatred, and she thrilled with avengeful, exultant joy that she was about to unmask him--that latershe might crush him utterly. 

"I am at your service, " he repeated. 

She slowly wet her lips and gathered herself to strike, alert to watchthe effects of her blow. 

"I have called, Mr. Bruce, " she said with slow distinctness, "to letyou know that I know that a conspiracy is under way to steal thewater-works! And to let you know that I know that you are near itscentre!"

He started. 

"What?" he cried. 

Her devouring gaze did not lose a change of feature, not so much asthe shifting in the pupil of his eye. 

"Oh, I know your plot!" she went on rapidly. "It's every detail! Thefirst step was to ruin the water-works, so the city would sell andsell cheap. The first step toward ruining the system was to get myfather out of the way. And so this charge against my father wastrumped up to ruin him. The leader of the whole plot is Mr. Blake; hisright hand man yourself. Oh, I know every detail of your infamousscheme!"

He stared at her. His lips had slowly parted. 

"What--you say that Mr. Blake----"

"Oh, you are trying to play your part of innocence well, but youcannot deceive me!" she cried with fierce contempt. "Yes, Mr. Blake isthe head of it. I just came from his office. There's not a doubt inthe world of his guilt. He has admitted it. Oh----"

"Admitted it?"

"Yes, admitted it! Oh, it was a fine and easy way to make afortune--to dupe the city into selling at a fraction of its value abusiness that run privately will pay an immense and ever-growingprofit. "

He had stood up and was scratching his bristling hair. 

"My God! My God!" he whispered. 

She rose. 

"And you!" she cried, glaring at him, her voice mounting to a climaxof scorn, "You! Don't walk the room"--he had begun to do so--"but lookme in the face. To think how you have attacked my father, malignedhim, covered him with dishonour! And for what? To help you carrythrough a dirty trick to rob the city! Oh, I wish I had the words totell you----"

But he had begun again to pace the little room, scratching his head, his eyes gleaming behind the heavy glasses. 

"Listen to me!" she commanded. 

"Oh, give me all the hell you want to!" he cried out. "Only don't askme to listen to you!"

He paused abruptly before her, and, eyes half-closed, staredpiercingly into her face. As she returned his stare, it began to dawnupon her that he did not seem much taken aback. At least his guiltbore no near likeness to that of Mr. Blake. 

Suddenly he made a lunge for the door, jerked it open, and his voicedescended the stairway, out-thundering the press. 

"Jake! Oh, Jake!"

A lesser roar ascended:

"Yes!"

"Stop the press! Rip open the forms! Get the men at the linotypes! Andbe alive down there, every damned soul of you! And you, Billy Harper, I'll want you here in two minutes!"

He slammed the door, and turned on Katherine. She had looked uponexcitement before, but never such excitement as was flaming in hisface. 

"Now give me all the details!" he cried. 

She it was that was taken aback. 

"I--I don't understand, " she said. 

"No time to explain now. Looks like I've been all wrong about yourfather--perhaps a little wrong about you--and perhaps you've been alittle wrong about me. Let it go at that. Now for the details. Quick!"

"But--but what are you going to do?"

"Going to get out an extra! It's the hottest story that ever came downthe pike! It'll make the _Express_, and"--he seized her hand in hisgrimy ones, his eyes blazed, and an exultant laugh leaped from hisdeep chest--"and we'll simply rip this old town wide open!"

Katherine stared at him in bewilderment. 

"Oh, won't this wake the old town up!" he murmured to himself. 

He dropped into his chair, jerked some loose copy paper toward him, and seized a pencil. 

"Now quick! The details!"

"You mean--you are going to print this?" she stammered. 

"Didn't I say so!" he answered sharply. 

"Then you really had nothing to do with Mr. Blake's----"

"Oh, hell! I beg pardon. But this is no time for explanations. Come, come"--he rapped his desk with his knuckles--"don't you know whatgetting out an extra is? Every second is worth half your lifetime. Outwith the story!"

Katherine sank rather weakly into her chair, beginning to see newthings in this face she had so lately loathed. 

"The fact of the matter is, " she confessed, "I guess I stated myinformation a little more definitely than it really is. "

"You mean you haven't the facts?"

"I'm afraid not. Not yet. "

"Nothing definite I could hinge a story on?"

She shook her head. "I didn't come prepared for--for things to takethis turn. It would spoil everything to have this made public before Ihad my case worked up. "

"Then there's no extra!"

He flung down his pencil and sprang up. "Nothing doing, Billy, " hecalled to Harper, who that instant opened the door; "go on back withyou. " He began to walk up and down the little office, scowling, handsclenched in his trousers' pockets. After a moment he stopped short, and looked at Katherine half savagely. 

"I suppose you don't know what it means to a newspaper man to have abig story laid in his hands and then suddenly jerked out?"

"I suppose it is something of a disappointment. "

"Disappointment!" The word came out half groan, half sneer. "Rot! Ifyou were waiting in church and the bridegroom didn't show up, if youwere----oh, I can't make you understand the feeling!"

He dropped back into his chair and scratched viciously at the copypaper with his heavy black pencil. She watched him in a sort offascination, till he abruptly looked up. Suspicion glinted behind theheavy glasses. 

"Are you sure, Miss West, " he asked slowly "that this whole affairisn't just a little game?"

"What do you mean?"

"That your whole story is nothing but a hoax? Nothing but a trick toget out of a tight hole by calling another man a thief?"

Her eyes flashed. 

"You mean that I am telling a lie?"

"Oh, you lawyers doubtless have a better-tasting word for it. Youwould call it, say, a 'professional expedient. '"

She was still not sufficiently recovered from her astonishment to beangry. Besides, she felt herself by an unexpected turn put in thewrong regarding Bruce. 

"What I have said to you is the absolute truth, " she declared. "Hereis the situation--believe me or not, just as you please. I ask you, for the moment, to accept the proposition that my father is the victimof a plot to steal the water-works, and then see how everything fitsin with that theory. And bear in mind, as an item worth considering, my father's long and honourable career--never a dishonouring wordagainst him till this charge came. " And she went on and outlined, morefully than on yesterday before her father, the reasoning that had ledher to her conclusion. "Now, does not that sound possible?" shedemanded. 

He had watched her with keen, half-closed eyes. 

"H'm. You reason well, " he conceded. 

"That's a lawyer's business, " she retorted. "So much for theory. Nowfor facts. " And she continued and gave him her experience of half anhour before with Blake, the editor's boring gaze fixed on her all thewhile. "Now I ask you this question: Is it likely that even a poorwater system could fail so quickly and so completely as ours has done, unless some powerful person was secretly working to make it fail? Doyou not see it never could? We all would have seen it, but we've allbeen too busy, too blind, and thought too well of our town, to suspectsuch a thing. "

His eyes were still boring into her. 

"But how about Doctor Sherman?" he asked. 

"I believe that Doctor Sherman is an innocent tool of the conspiracy, just as my father is its innocent victim, " she answered promptly. 

Bruce sat with the same fixed look, and made no reply. 

"I have stated my theory, and I have stated my facts, " said Katherine. "I have no court evidence, but I am going to have it. As I remarkedbefore, you can believe what I have said, or not believe it. It's allthe same to me. " She stood up. "I wish you good afternoon. "

He quickly rose. 

"Hold on!" he said. 

She paused at the door. He strode to and fro across the little office, scowling with thought. Then he paused at the window and looked out. 

"Well?" she demanded. 

He wheeled about. 

"It sounds plausible. "

"Thank you, " she said crisply. "I could hardly expect a man who hasbeen the champion of error, to admit that he has been wrong and acceptthe truth. Good afternoon. "

Again she reached for the door-knob. 

"Wait!" he cried. There was a ring of resentment in his voice, but hissquare face that had been grudgingly non-committal was now aglow withexcitement. "Of course you're right!" he exclaimed. "There's a damnedinfernal conspiracy! Now what can I do to help?"

"Help?" she asked blankly. 

"Help work up the evidence? Help reveal the conspiracy?"

She had not yet quite got her bearings concerning this new Bruce. 

"Help? Why should you help? Oh, I see, " she said coldly; "it wouldmake a nice sensational story for your paper. "

He flushed at her cutting words, and his square jaw set. 

"I suppose I might follow your example of a minute ago and say that Idon't care what you think. But I don't mind telling you a few things, and giving you a chance to understand me if you want to. I was on aChicago paper, and had a big place that was growing bigger. I couldhave sold the _Express_ when my uncle left it to me, and stayed there;but I saw a chance, with a paper of my own, to try out some of my ownideas, so I came to Westville. My idea of a newspaper is that itsfunction is to serve the people--make them think--bring them newideas--to be ever watching their interests. Of course, I want to makemoney--I've got to, or go to smash; but I'd rather run a candy storethan run a sleepy, apologetic, afraid-of-a-mouse, mere money-makingsheet like the _Clarion_, that would never breathe a word against thedevil's fair name so long as he carried a half-inch ad. You called mea yellow journalist yesterday. Well, if to tell the truth in thehardest way I know how, to tell it so that it will hit people squarebetween the eyes and make 'em sit up and look around 'em--if that isyellow then I'm certainly a yellow journalist, and I thank GodAlmighty for inventing the breed!"

As Katherine listened to his snappy, vibrant words, as she looked athis powerful, dominant figure, and into his determined face with itsflashing eyes, she felt a reluctant warmth creep through her being. 

"Perhaps--I may have been mistaken about you, " she said. 

"Perhaps you may!" he returned grimly. "Perhaps as much as I was aboutyour father. And, speaking of your father, I don't mind addingsomething more. Ever since I took charge of the _Express_, I've beenadvocating municipal ownership of every public utility. Thewater-works, which were apparently so satisfactory, were a good start;I used them constantly as a text for working up municipal ownershipsentiment. The franchises of the Westville Traction Company expirenext year, and I had been making a campaign against renewing thefranchises and in favour of the city taking over the system andrunning it. Opinion ran high in favour of the scheme. But DoctorWest's seeming dishonesty completely killed the municipal ownershipidea. That was my pet, and if I was bitter toward your father--well, Icouldn't help it. And now, " he added rather brusquely, "I've explainedmyself to you. To repeat your words, you can believe me or not, justas you like. "

There was no resisting the impression of the man's sincerity. 

"I suppose, " said Katherine, "that I should apologize for--for thethings I've called you. My only excuse is that your mistake about myfather helped cause my mistake about you. "

"And I, " returned he, "am not only willing to take back, publicly, inmy paper, what I have said against your father, but am willing toprint your statement about----"

"You must not print a word till I get my evidence, " she put inquickly. "Printing it prematurely might ruin my case. "

"Very well. And as for what I have said about you, I take backeverything--except----" He paused; she saw disapprobation in his eyes. "Except the plain truth I told you that being a lawyer is no work fora woman. "

"You are very dogmatic!" said she hotly. 

"I am very right, " he returned. "Excuse my saying it, but you appearto have too many good qualities as a woman to spoil it all by goingout of your sphere and trying----"

"Why--why----" She stood gasping. "Do you know what your uncle told meabout you?"

"Old Hosie?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Hosie's an old fool!"

"He said that the trouble with you was that you had not been thrashedenough as a boy. And he was right, too!"

She turned quickly to the door, but he stepped before her. 

"Don't get mad because of a little truth. Remember, I want to helpyou. "

"I think, " said she, "that we're better suited to fight each otherthan to help each other. I'm not so sure I want your help. "

"I'm not so sure you can avoid taking it, " he retorted. "This isn'tyour father's case alone. It's the city's case, too, and I've got aright to mix in. Now do you want me?"

She looked at him a moment. 

"I'll think it over. For the present, good afternoon. "

He hesitated, then held out his hand. She hesitated, then took it. After which, he opened the door for her and bowed her out. 

CHAPTER IX

THE PRICE OF A MAN

When, half an hour before, Katherine walked with bowed head out ofHarrison Blake's office, Blake gazed fixedly after her for a moment, and his face, now that he was private, deepened its sickly, ashen hue. Then he strode feverishly up and down the room, lips twitchingnervously, hands clinching and unclinching. Then he unlocked a cabinetagainst the wall, poured out a drink from a squat, black bottle, gulped it down, and returned the bottle, forgetting to close thecabinet. After which he dropped into his chair, gripped his face inhis two hands, and sat at his desk breathing deeply, but otherwisewithout motion. 

Presently his door opened. 

"Mr. Brown is here to see you, " announced a voice. 

He slowly raised his head, and stared an instant at his stenographerin dumfounded silence. 

"Mr. Brown!" he repeated. 

"Yes, " said the young woman. 

He continued to stare at her in sickly stupefaction. 

"Shall I tell him you'll see him later?"

"Show him in, " said Blake. "But, no--wait till I ring. "

He passed his hand across his moist and pallid face, paced his roomagain several times, then touched a button and stood stiffly erectbeside his desk. The next moment the door closed behind a short, rather chubby man with an egg-shell dome and a circlet of grayishhair. He had eyes that twinkled with good fellowship and a cheery, fatherly manner. 

"Well, well, Mr. Blake; mighty glad to see you!" he exclaimed as hecrossed the room. 

Blake, still pale, but now with tense composure, took the hand of hisvisitor. 

"This is a surprise, Mr. Brown, " said he. "How do you happen to be inWestville?"

Mr. Brown disposed himself comfortably in the chair that Katherine hadso lately occupied. 

"To-morrow's the trial of that Doctor West, isn't it?"

"Yes. "

"Well, I thought I'd better be on the ground to see how it came out. "

Blake did not respond at once; but, lips very tight together, satgazing at the ruddy face of his visitor. 

"Everything's going all right, isn't it?" asked Mr. Brown in hischeery voice. 

"About the trial, you mean?" Blake asked with an effort. 

"Of course. The letter I had from you yesterday assured me convictionwas certain. Things still stand the same way, I suppose?"

Blake's whole body was taut. His dark eyes were fixed upon Mr. Brown. 

"They do not, " he said quietly. 

"Not stand the same way?" cried Mr. Brown, half rising from his chair. "Why not?"

"I am afraid, " replied Blake with his strained quiet, "that theprosecution will not make out a case. "

"Not make out a case?"

"To-morrow Doctor West is going to be cleared. "

"Cleared? Cleared?" Mr. Brown stared. "Now what the devil--see here, Blake, how's that going to happen?"

Blake's tense figure had leaned forward. 

"It's going to happen, Mr. Brown, " he burst out, with a flashing ofhis dark eyes, "because I'm tired of doing your dirty work, and thedirty work of the National Electric & Water Company!"

"You mean you're going to see he's cleared?"

"I mean I'm going to see he's cleared!"

"What--you?" ejaculated Mr. Brown, still staring. "Why, only in yourletter yesterday you were all for the plan! What's come over you?"

"If you'd gone through what I've just gone through----" Blake abruptlychecked his passionate reference to his scene with Katherine. "I sayenough when I say that I'm going to see that Doctor West is cleared. There you have it. "

No further word was spoken for a moment. The two men, leaning towardeach other, gazed straight into one another's eyes. Blake's powerful, handsome face was blazing and defiant. The fatherly kindness haddisappeared from the other, and it was keen and hard. 

"So, " said Mr. Brown, cuttingly, and with an infinity of contempt, "itappears that Mr. Harrison Blake is the owner of a white liver. "

"You know that's a lie!" Blake fiercely retorted. "You know I've gotas much courage as you and your infernal company put together!"

"Oh, you have, have you? From the way you're turning tail----"

"To turn tail upon a dirty job is no cowardice!"

"But there have been plenty of dirty jobs you haven't run from. You'veput through many a one in the last two or three years on the quiet. "

"But never one like this. "

"You knew exactly what the job was when you made the bargain with us. "

"Yes. And my stomach rose against it even then. "

"Then why the devil did you tie up with us?"

"Because your big promises dazzled me! Because you took me up on ahigh mountain and showed me the kingdoms of the earth!"

"Well, you then thought the kingdoms were pretty good lookingproperty. "

"Good enough to make me forget the sort of thing I was doing. Goodenough to blind me as to how things might come out. But I see now! AndI'm through with it all!"

The chubby little man's eyes were on fire. But he was too experiencedin his trade to allow much liberty to anger. 

"And that's final--that's where you stand?" he asked with comparativecalm. 

"That's where I stand!" cried Blake. "I may have got started crooked, but I'm through with this kind of business now! I'm going back toclean ways! And you, Mr. Brown, you might as well say good-by!"

But Mr. Brown was an old campaigner. He never abandoned a battlemerely because it apparently seemed lost. He now leaned back in hischair, slowly crossed his short legs, and thoughtfully regardedBlake's excited features. His own countenance had changed its aspect;it had shed its recent hardness, and had not resumed its originalcheeriness. It was eminently a reasonable face. 

"Come, let's talk this whole matter over in a calm manner, " he beganin a rather soothing tone. "Neither of us wants to be too hasty. Thereare a few points I'd like to call your attention to, if you'll letme. "

"Go ahead with your points, " said Blake. "But they won't change mydecision. "

"First, let's talk about the company, " Mr. Brown went on in his mild, persuasive manner. "Frankly, you've put the company in a hole. Believing that you would keep your end of the bargain, the company hasinvested a lot of money and started a lot of projects. We bought uppractically all the stock of the Westville street car lines, when thatmunicipal ownership talk drove the price so low, because we expectedto get a new franchise through your smashing this municipal ownershipfallacy. We have counted on big things from the water-works when yougot hold of it for us. And we have plans on foot in several othercities of the state, and we've been counting on the failure ofmunicipal ownership in Westville to have a big influence on thosecities and to help us in getting what we want. In one way and anotherthis deal here means an awful lot to the company. Your failing us atthe last moment means to the company----"

"I understand all that, " interrupted Blake. 

"Here's a point for you to consider then: Since the company has bankedso much upon your promise, since it will lose so heavily if yourepudiate your word, are you not bound in honour to stand by youragreement?"

Blake opened his lips, but Mr. Brown raised a hand. 

"Don't answer now. I just leave that for you to think upon. So muchfor the company. Now for yourself. We promised you if you carried thisdeal through--and you know how able we are to keep our promise!--wepromised you Grayson's seat in the Senate. And after that, with yourability and our support, who knows where you'd stop?" Mr. Brown'svoice became yet more soft and persuasive. "Isn't that a lot to throwoverboard because of a scruple?"

"I can win all that, or part of it, by being loyal to the people, "Blake replied doggedly, but in a rather unsteady tone. 

"Come, come, Mr. Blake, " said Brown reprovingly, "you know you're nottalking sense. You know that the only quick and sure way of gettingthe big offices is by the help of the corporations. So you realizewhat you're losing. "

Blake's face had become drawn and pale. He closed his eyes, as thoughto shut out the visions of the kingdoms Mr. Brown had conjured up. 

"I'm ready to lose it!" he cried. 

"All right, then, " Mr. Brown went mildly on. "So much for what welose, and what you lose. Now for the next point, the action you intendto take regarding Doctor West. Do you mind telling me just how youpropose to undo what you have done so far?"

"I haven't thought it out yet. But I can do it. "

"Of course, " pursued Mr. Brown blandly, "you propose to do it so thatyou will appear in no way to be involved?"

Blake was thinking of Katherine's accusation. "Of course. "

"Just suppose you think about that point for a minute or two. "

There was a brief silence. When Mr. Brown next spoke he spoke veryslowly and accompanied each word with a gentle tap of his forefingeron the desk. 

"Can you think of a single way to clear Doctor West withoutincriminating yourself?"

Blake gave a start. 

"What's that?"

"Can you get Doctor West out of his trouble without showing who gothim into his trouble? Just think that over. "

During the moment of silence Blake grew yet more pale. 

"I'll kill the case somehow!" he breathed. 

"But the case looks very strong against Doctor West. Everybodybelieves him guilty. Do you think you can suddenly, within twenty-fourhours, reverse the whole situation, and not run some risk of havingsuspicion shift around to you?"

Blake's eyes fell to his desk, and he sat staring whitely at it. 

"And there's still another matter, " pursued the gentle voice of Mr. Brown, now grown apologetic. "I wouldn't think of mentioning it, but Iwant you to have every consideration before you. I believe I nevertold you that the National Electric & Water Company own the majoritystock of the Acme Filter Company. "

"No, I didn't know that. "

"It was because of that mutual relationship that I was able to helpout your little plan by getting Marcy to do what he did. Now if someof our directors should feel sore at the way you've thrown us down, they might take it into their minds to make things unpleasant foryou. "

"Unpleasant? How?"

Mr. Brown's fatherly smile had now come back. It was full of concernfor Blake. 

"Well, I'd hate, for instance, to see them use their pressure todrive Mr. Marcy to make a statement. "

"Mr. Marcy? A statement?"

"Because, " continued Mr. Brown in his tone of fatherly concern, "afterMr. Marcy had stated what he knows about this case, I'm afraid therewouldn't be much chance for you to win any high places by being loyalto the people. "

For a moment after this velvet threat Blake held upon Mr. Brown anopen-lipped, ashen face. Then, without a word, he leaned his elbowsupon his desk and buried his face in his hands. For a long space therewas silence in the room. Mr. Brown's eyes, kind no longer, but keenestof the keen, watched the form before him, timing the right second tostrike again. 

At length he recrossed his legs. 

"Of course it's up to you to decide, and what you say goes, " he wenton in his amiable voice. "But speaking impartially, and as a friend, it strikes me that you've gone too far in this matter to draw back. Itstrikes me that the best and only thing is to go straight ahead. "

Blake's head remained bowed in his hands, and he did not speak. 

"And, of course, " pursued Mr. Brown, "if you should decide in favourof the original agreement, our promise still stands good--Senate andall. "

Mr. Brown said no more, but sat watching his man. Again there was along silence. Then Blake raised his face--and a changed face it wasindeed from that which had fallen into his hands. It bore the marks ofa mighty struggle, but it was hard and resolute--the face of a man whohas cast all hesitancy behind. 

"The agreement still stands, " he said. 

"Then you're ready to go ahead?"

"To the very end, " said Blake. 

Mr. Brown nodded. "I was sure you'd decide that way, " said he. 

"I want to thank you for what you've said to bring me around, " Blakecontinued in his new incisive tone. "But it is only fair to tell youthat this was only a spell--not the first one, in fact--and that Iwould have come to my senses anyhow. "

"Of course, of course. " It was not the policy of Mr. Brown, once thevictory was won, to discuss to whom the victory belonged. 

Blake's eyes were keen and penetrating. 

"And you say that the things I said a little while back will notaffect your attitude toward me in the future?"

"Those things? Why, they've already passed out of my other ear! Oh, it's no new experience, " he went on with his comforting air ofgood-fellowship, "for me to run into one of our political friends whenhe's sick with a bad case of conscience. They all have it now andthen, and they all pull out of it. No, don't you worry about thefuture. You're O. K. With us. "

"Thank you. "

"And now, since everything is so pleasantly cleared up, " continued Mr. Brown, "let's go back to my first question. I suppose everything looksall right for the trial to-morrow?"

Blake hesitated a moment, then told of Katherine's discovery. "Butit's no more than a surmise, " he ended. 

"Has she guessed any other of the parties implicated?" Mr. Brown askedanxiously. 

"I'm certain she has not. "

"Is she likely to raise a row to-morrow?"

"I hardly see how she can. "

"All the same, we'd better do something to quiet her, " returned Mr. Brown meaningly. 

Blake flashed a quick look at the other. 

"See here--I'll not have her touched!"

Mr. Brown's scanty eyebrows lifted. 

"Hello! You seem very tender about her!"

Blake looked at him sternly a moment. Then he said stiffly: "I onceasked Miss West to marry me. "

"Eh--you don't say!" exclaimed the other, amazed. "That is certainly aqueer situation for you!" He rubbed his naked dome. "And you stillfeel----"

"What I feel is my own affair!" Blake cut in sharply. 

"Of course, of course!" agreed Mr. Brown quickly. "I beg your pardon!"

Blake ignored the apology. 

"It might be well for you not to see me openly again like this. WithMiss West watching me----"

"She might see us together, and suspect things. I understand. Needn'tworry about that. You may not see me again for a year. I'mhere--there--everywhere. But before I go, how do things look for theelection?"

"We'll carry the city easily. "

"Who'll you put up for mayor?"

"Probably Kennedy, the prosecuting attorney. "

"Is he safe?"

"He'll do what he's told. "

"That's good. Is he strong with the people?"

"Fairly so. But the party will carry him through. "

"H'm. " Mr. Brown was thoughtful for a space. "This is your end of thegame, of course, and I make it a point not to interfere with anotherman's work. The only time I've butted in here was when I helped youabout getting Marcy. But still, I hope you don't mind my making asuggestion. "

"Not at all. "

"We've got to have the next mayor and council, you know. Simply gotto have them. We don't want to run any risk, however small. If youthink there's one chance in a thousand of Kennedy losing out, supposeyou have yourself nominated. "

"Me?" exclaimed Blake. 

"It strikes you as a come-down, of course. But you can do itgracefully--in the interest of the city, and all that, you know. Youcan turn it into a popular hit. Then you can resign as soon as ourbusiness is put through. "

"There may be something in it, " commented Blake. 

"It's only a suggestion. Just think it over, and use your ownjudgment. " He stood up. "Well, I guess that's all we need to say toone another. The whole situation here is entirely in your hands. Do asyou please, and we ask no questions about how you do it. We're notinterested in methods, only in results. "

He clapped Blake heartily upon the shoulder. "And it looks as thoughwe all were going to get results! Especially you! Why, you, with thistrial successfully over--with the election won--with the goodsdelivered----"

He suddenly broke off, for the tail of his eye had sighted Blake'sopen cabinet. 

"Will you allow me a liberty?"

"Certainly, " replied Blake, in the dark as to his visitor's purpose. 

Mr. Brown crossed to the cabinet, and returned with the squat, blackbottle and two small glasses. He tilted an inch into each tumbler, gave one to Blake, and raised the other on high. His face wasillumined with his fatherly smile. 

"To our new Senator!" he said. 

CHAPTER X

SUNSET AT THE SYCAMORES

When the door had closed behind the pleasant figure of Mr. Brown, Blake pressed the button upon his desk. His stenographer appeared. 

"I have some important matters to consider, " he said. "Do not allow meto be disturbed until Doctor and Mrs. Sherman come with the car. "

His privacy thus secured, Blake sat at his desk, staring fixedlybefore him. His brow was compressed into wrinkles, his dark face, still showing a yellowish pallor, was hard and set. He reviewed theentire situation, and as his consuming ambition contemplated theglories of success, and the success after that, and the succession ofsuccesses that led up and ever up, his every nerve was afire with anexcruciating, impatient pleasure. 

For a space while Katherine had confronted him, and for a space aftershe had gone, he had shrunk from this business he was carryingthrough. But he had spoken truthfully to Mr. Brown when he had saidthat his revulsion was but a temporary feeling, and that of his ownaccord he would have come back to his original decision. He had hadsuch revulsions before, and each time he had swung as surely back tohis purpose as does the disturbed needle to the magnetic pole. 

Westville considered Harrison Blake a happy blend of the best of hisfather and mother; whereas, in point of fact, his father and hismother lived in him with their personalities almost intact. There washis mother, with her idealism and her high sense of honour; and hisfather, with his boundless ambition and his lack of principles. In theearlier years of Blake's manhood his mother's qualities had dominated. He had sincerely tried to do great work for Westville, and had doneit; and the reputation he had then made, and the gratitude he had thenwon, were the seed from which had grown the great esteem with whichWestville now regarded him. 

But a few years back he had found that rise, through virtue, was slowand beset with barriers. His ambition had become impatient. Now thathe was a figure of local power and importance, temptation began toassail him with offers of rapid elevation if only he would becomplaisant. In this situation, the father in him rose into theascendency; he had compromised and yielded, though always managing tokeep his dubious transactions secret. And now at length ambition ruledhim--though as yet not undisturbed, for conscience sometimes rose inunexpected revolt and gave him many a bitter battle. 

When his stenographer told Blake that Doctor and Mrs. Sherman werewaiting at the curb, he descended with something more like his usualcast of countenance. Elsie and her husband were in the tonneau, and asBlake crossed the sidewalk to the car she stretched out a nervous handand gave him a worn, excited smile. 

"It is so good of you to take us out to The Sycamores for over night!"she exclaimed. "It's such a pleasure--and such a relief!"

She did not need to explain that it was a relief because the motion, the company, the change of scene, would help crowd from her mind thedread of to-morrow when her husband would have to take the standagainst Doctor West; she did not need to explain this, because Blake'seyes read it all in her pale, feverish face. 

Blake shook hands with Doctor Sherman, dismissed his chauffeur, andtook the wheel. They spun out of the city and down into the RiverRoad--the favourite drive with Westville folk--which followed thestream in broad sweeping curves and ran through arcades ofthick-bodied, bowing willows and sycamores lofty and severe, theirfoliage now a drought-crisped brown. After half an hour the car turnedthrough a stone gateway into a grove of beech and elm and sycamore. Ata comfortable distance apart were perhaps a dozen houses whose outerwalls were slabs of trees with the bark still on. This was TheSycamores, a little summer resort established by a small group of theselect families of Westville. 

Blake stopped the car before one of these houses--"cabins" theirowners called them, though their primitiveness was all in that outershell of bark. A rather tall, straight, white-haired old lady, with asweet nobility and strength of face, was on the little porch to greetthem. She welcomed Elsie and her husband warmly and graciously. Thenwith no relaxation of her natural dignity into emotional effusion, sheembraced her son and kissed him--for to her, as to Westville, he wasthe same man as five years before, and to him she had given not onlythe love a mother gives her only son, but the love she had formerlyborne her husband who, during his last years, had been to her a bittergrief. Blake returned the kiss with no less feeling. His love of hismother was the talk of Westville; it was the one noble sentiment whichhe still allowed to sway him with all its original sincerity andmight. 

They had tea out upon the porch, with its view of the river twinklingdown the easy hill between the trees. Mrs. Blake, seeing how agitatedElsie was, and under what a strain was Doctor Sherman, and guessingthe cause, deftly guided the conversation away from to-morrow's trial. She led the talk around to the lecture room which was being added toDoctor Sherman's church--a topic of high interest to them all, for shewas a member of the church, Blake was chairman of the buildingcommittee, and Doctor Sherman was treasurer of the committee andactive director of the work. This manoeuvre had but moderatesuccess. Blake carried his part of the conversation well enough, andElsie talked with a feverish interest which was too great a drain uponher meagre strength. But the stress of Doctor Sherman, which he stroveto conceal, seemed to grow greater rather than decrease. 

Presently Blake excused himself and Doctor Sherman, and the two menstrolled down a winding, root-obstructed path toward the river. Asthey left the cabin behind them, Blake's manner became cold and hard, as in his office, and Doctor Sherman's agitation, which he had withsuch an effort kept in hand, began to escape his control. Once hestumbled over the twisted root which a beech thrust across their pathand would have fallen had not Blake put out a swift hand and caughthim. Yet at this neither uttered a word, and in silence theycontinued walking on till they reached a retired spot upon the river'sbank. 

Here Doctor Sherman sank to a seat upon a mossy, rotting log. Blake, erect, but leaning lightly against the scaling, mottled body of agiant sycamore, at first gave no heed to his companion. He gazedstraight ahead down the river, emaciated by the drought till thebowlders of its bottom protruded through the surface like so manybones--with the ranks of austere sycamores keeping their stately watchon either bank--with the sun, blood red in the September haze, suspended above the river's west-most reach. 

Thus the pair remained for several moments. Then Blake looked slowlyabout at the minister. 

"I brought you down here because there is something I want to tellyou, " he said calmly. 

"I supposed so; go ahead, " responded Doctor Sherman in a choked voice, his eyes upon the ground. 

"You seem somewhat disturbed, " remarked Blake in the same cold, eventone. 

"Disturbed!" cried Doctor Sherman. "Disturbed!"

His voice told how preposterously inadequate was the word. He did notlift his eyes, but sat silent a moment, his white hands crushing oneanother, his face bent upon the rotted wood beneath his feet. 

"It's that business to-morrow!" he groaned; and at that he suddenlysprang up and confronted Blake. His fine face was wildly haggard andwas working in convulsive agony. "My God, " he burst out, "when I lookback at myself as I was four years ago, and then look at myself as Iam to-day--oh, I'm sick, sick!" A hand gripped the cloth over hisbreast. "Why, when I came to Westville I was on fire to serve God withall my heart and never a compromise! On fire to preach the new gospelthat the way to make people better is to make this an easier world forpeople to be better in!"

That passion-shaken figure was not a pleasant thing to look upon. Blake turned his eyes back to the glistening river and the sun, andsteeled himself. 

"Yes, I remember you preached some great sermons in those days, " hecommented in his cold voice. "And what happened to you?"

"You know what happened to me!" cried the young minister with his wildpassion. "You know well enough, even if you were not in that group ofprominent members who gave me to understand that I'd either have tochange my sermons or they'd have to change their minister!"

"At least they gave you a choice, " returned Blake. 

"And I made the wrong choice! I was at the beginning of my career--thechurch here seemed a great chance for so young a man--and I did notwant to fail at the very beginning. And so--and so--I compromised!"

"Do you suppose you are the first man that has ever made acompromise?"

"That compromise was the direct cause of to-morrow!" the youngclergyman went on in his passionate remorse. "That compromise was thebeginning of my fall. After the prominent members took me up, favouredme, it became easy to blink my eyes at their business methods. Andthen it became easy for me to convince myself that it would be allright for me to gamble in stocks. "

"That was your great mistake, " said the dry voice of the motionlessfigure against the tree. "A minister has no business to fool with thestock market. "

"But what was I to do?" Doctor Sherman cried desperately. "No moneybehind me--the salary of a dry goods clerk--my wife up there, whom Ilove better than my own life, needing delicacies, attention, a longstay in Colorado--what other chance, I ask you, did I have of gettingthe money?"

"Well, at any rate, you should have kept your fingers off that churchbuilding fund. "

"God, don't I realize that! But with the market falling, and all thelittle I had about to be swept away, what else was a half frantic manto do but to try to save himself with any money he could put his handsupon?"

Blake shrugged his shoulders. 

"Well, if luck was against you when that church money was also sweptaway, luck was certainly with you when it happened that I was the oneto discover what you had done. "

"So I thought, when you offered to replace the money and cover thewhole thing up. But, God, I never dreamed you'd exact such a price inreturn!"

He gripped Blake's arm and shook it. His voice was a half-muffledshriek. 

"If you wanted the water-works, if you wanted to do this to DoctorWest, why did you pick on me to bring the accusation? There are menwho would never have minded it--men without conscience and withoutcharacter!"

Blake steadfastly kept his steely gaze upon the river. 

"I believe I have answered that a number of times, " he repliedin his hard, even tone. "I picked you because I needed a man ofcharacter to give the charges weight. A minister, the president ofour reform body--no one else would serve so well. And I picked youbecause--pardon me, if in my directness I seem brutal--I picked youbecause you were all ready to my hand; you were in a situation whereyou dared not refuse me. Also I picked you, instead of a man with nocharacter to lose, because I knew that you, having a character to loseand not wanting to lose it, would be less likely than any one elseever to break down and confess. I hope my answer is sufficientlyexplicit. "

Doctor Sherman stared at the erect, immobile figure. 

"And you still intend, " he asked in a dry, husky voice, "you stillintend to force me to go upon the stand to-morrow and commit----"

"I would not use so unpleasant a word if I were you. "

"But you are going to force me to do it?"

"I am not going to force you. You referred a few minutes ago to thetime when you had a choice. Well, here is another time when you have achoice. "

"Choice?" cried Doctor Sherman eagerly. 

"Yes. You can testify, or not testify, as you please. Only in reachingyour decision, " added the dry, emotionless voice, "I suggest that youdo not forget that I have in my possession your signed confession ofthat embezzlement. "

"And you call that a choice?" cried Doctor Sherman. "When, if Irefuse, you'll expose me, ruin me forever, kill Elsie's love for me!Do you call that a choice?"

"A choice, certainly. Perhaps you are inclined not to testify. If so, very well. But before you make your decision I desire to inform you ofone fact. You will remember that I said in the beginning that Ibrought you down here to tell you something. "

"Yes. What is it?"

"Merely this. That Miss West has discovered that I am behind thisaffair. "

"What!" Doctor Sherman fell back a step, and his face filled withsudden terror. "Then--she knows everything?"

"She knows little, but she suspects much. For instance, since sheknows that this is a plot, she is likely to suspect that every personin any way connected with the affair is guilty of conspiracy. "

"Even--even me?"

"Even you. "

"Then--you think?"

Blake turned his face sharply about upon Doctor Sherman--the firsttime since the beginning of their colloquy. It was his father'sface--his father in one of his most relentless, overriding moods--theface of a man whom nothing can stop. 

"I think, " said he slowly, driving each word home, "that the onlychance for people who want to come out of this affair with a cleanname is to stick the thing right through as we planned. "

Doctor Sherman did not speak. 

"I tell you about Miss West for two reasons. First, in order to letyou know the danger you're in. Second, in order, in case you decidedto testify, that you may be forewarned and be prepared to outface her. I believe you understand everything now?"

"Yes, " was the almost breathless response. 

"Then may I be allowed to ask what you are going to do--testify, ornot testify?"

The minister's hands opened and closed. He swallowed with difficulty. 

"Testify, or not testify?" Blake insisted. 

"Testify, " whispered Doctor Sherman. 

"Just as you choose, " said Blake coldly. 

The minister sank back to his seat upon the mossy log, and bowed hishead into his hands. "Oh, my God!" he breathed. 

There followed a silence, during which Blake gazed upon the huddledfigure. Then he turned his set face down the glittering, dwindledstream, and, one shoulder lightly against the sycamore, he watched thesun there at the river's end sink softly down into its golden slumber. 

CHAPTER XI

THE TRIAL

Katherine's first thought, on leaving Bruce's office, was to lay herdiscovery before Doctor Sherman. She was certain that with hernew-found knowledge, and with her entirely new point of view, theycould quickly discover wherein he had been duped--for she still heldhim to be an unwitting tool--and thus quickly clear up the whole case. But for reasons already known she failed to find him; and learningthat he had gone away with Blake, she well knew Blake would keep himout of her reach until the trial was over. 

In sharpest disappointment, Katherine went home. With the trial so fewhours away, with all her new discoveries buzzing chaotically in herhead, she felt the need of advising with some one about the situation. Bruce's offer of assistance recurred to her, and she found herselfanalyzing the editor again, just as she had done when she had walkedaway from his office. She rebelled against him in her every fibre, yetat the same time she felt a reluctant liking for him. He was a manwith big dreams, a rough-and-ready idealist, an idealist with sharplymarked limitations, some areas of his mind very broad, somedogmatically narrow. Opinionated, obstinate, impulsive, of not verysound judgment, yet dictatorial because supremely certain of hisrightness--courageous, unselfish, sincere--that was the way she nowsaw the editor of the _Express_. 

But he had sneered at her, sharply criticized her, and she hotlyspurned the thought of asking his aid. Instead of him, she thatevening summoned Old Hosie Hollingsworth to her house, and to the oldlawyer she told everything. Old Hosie was convinced that she wasright, and was astounded. 

"And to think that the good folks of this town used to denounce me asa worshipper of strange gods!" he ejaculated. "Gee, what'll they saywhen they learn that the idol they've been wearing out their knee-capson has got clay feet that run clear up to his Adam's-apple!"

They decided that it would be a mistake for Katherine to try to useher new theories and discoveries openly in defence of her father. Shehad too little evidence, and any unsupported charges hurled againstBlake would leave that gentleman unharmed and would come whirlingback upon Katherine as a boomerang of popular indignation. She darednot breathe a word against the city's favourite until she hadincontrovertible proof. Under the circumstances, the best courseseemed for her to ask for a postponement on the morrow to enable herto work up further evidence. 

"Only, " warned Hosie, "you must remember that the chances are thatBlake has already slipped the proper word to Judge Kellog, andthere'll be no postponement. "

"Then I'll have to depend upon tangling up that Mr. Marcy on thestand. "

"And Doctor Sherman?"

"There'll be no chance of entangling him. He'll tell a straightforwardstory. How could he tell any other? Don't you see how he's beenused?--been made spectator to a skilfully laid scheme which hehonestly believes to be a genuine case of bribery?"

At parting Old Hosie held her hand a moment. 

"D'you remember the prophecy I made the day you took your office--thatyou would raise the dickens in this old town?"

"Yes, " said Katherine. 

"Well, that's coming true--as sure as plug hats don't grow on figtrees! Only not in the way I meant then. Not as a freak. But as alawyer. "

"Thank you. " She smiled and slowly shook her head. "But I'm afraid itwon't come true to-morrow. "

"Of course a prophecy is no good, unless you do your best. "

"Oh, I'm going to do my best, " she assured him. 

The next morning, on the long awaited day, Katherine set out for theCourt House, throbbing alternately with hope and fear of the outcome. Mixed with these was a perturbation of a very different sort--anever-growing stage-fright. For this last there was good reason. Trialswere a form of recreation as popular in Calloway County asgladiatorial contests in ancient Rome, and this trial--in the lack ofa sensational murder in the county during the year--was the greatestof the twelvemonth. Moreover, it was given added interest by the factthat, for the first time in recorded history, Calloway County wasgoing to see in action that weirdest product of whirling change, awoman lawyer. 

Hub to hub about the hitch-racks of the Square were jammed buggies, surries, spring wagons and other country equipages. The court-room waspacked an hour before the trial, and in the corridor were craning, straining, elbowing folk who had come too late. In the openwindows--the court-room was on the ground floor--were the busts ofeager citizens whose feet were pedestaled on boxes, the sale of whichhad been a harvest of small coin to neighbouring grocers; and in thetrees without youths of simian habit clung to advantageous limbs andstrained to get a view of the proceedings. Old Judge Kellog whousually dozed on his twenty-first vertebra through testimony andargument--once a young fledgling of a lawyer, sailing aloft in theempyrean of his eloquence, had been brought tumbling confusedly toearth by the snoring of the bench--attested to the unusualness of theoccasion by being upright and awake. And Bud White, the clerk, calledthe court to order, not with his usual masterpiece of mumbledunintelligibility, brought to perfection by long years of practice, but with real words that could have been understood had only theaudience been listening. 

But their attention was all fixed upon the counsel for the defence. Katherine, in a plain white shirt waist and a black sailor, sat at atable alone with her father. Doctor West was painfully nervous; hislong fingers were constantly twisting among themselves. Katherine wasunder an even greater strain. She realized with an intenser keennessnow that the moment for action was at hand, that this was her firstcase, that her father's reputation, his happiness, perhaps even hislife, were at stake; and she was well aware that all this theatre ofpeople, whose eyes she felt burning into her back, regarded her asthe final curiosity of nature. Behind her, with young Harper at hisside, she had caught a glimpse of Arnold Bruce, eying her criticallyand sceptically she thought; and in the audience she had glimpsed thefixed, inscrutable face of Harrison Blake. 

But she clung blindly to her determination, and as Bud White sat down, she forced herself to rise. A deep hush spread through the court-room. She stood trembling, swallowing, voiceless, a statue of stage-fright, wildly hating herself for her impotence. For a dizzy, agonizing momentshe saw herself a miserable failure--saw the crowd laughing at her asthey filed out. 

A youthful voice, from a balcony seat in an elm tree, floated inthrough the open window:

"Speak your piece, little girl, or set down. "

There was a titter. She stiffened. 

"Your--your Honour, " she stammered, "I move a postponement in order toallow the defence more time to prepare its case. "

Judge Kellog fingered his patriarchal beard. Katherine stood hardlybreathing while she waited his momentous words. But his answer was asOld Hosie had predicted. 

"In view of the fact that the defence has already had four months inwhich to prepare its case, " said he, "I shall have to deny the motionand order the trial to proceed. "

Katherine sat down. The hope of deferment was gone. There remainedonly to fight. 

A jury was quickly chosen; Katherine felt that her case would stand asgood a chance with any one selection of twelve men as with any other. Kennedy then stepped forward. With an air that was a blend of hispretentious--if rather raw-boned--dignity as a coming statesman, ofextreme deference toward Katherine's sex, and of the sense of hispersonal belittlement in being pitted against such a legal weakling, he outlined to the jury what he expected to prove. After which, hecalled Mr. Marcy to the stand. 

The agent of the filter company gave his evidence with that degree ofshame-facedness proper to the man, turned state's witness, who hasbeen an accomplice in the dishonourable proceedings he is relating. Itall sounded and looked so true--so very, very true!

When Katherine came to cross-examine him, she gazed at him steadily amoment. She knew that he was lying, and she knew that he knew that sheknew he was lying. But he met her gaze with precisely the abashed, guilty air appropriate to his rôle. 

What she considered her greatest chance was now before her. Calling upall her wits, she put to Mr. Marcy questions that held distant, hiddentraps. But when she led him along the devious, unsuspicious path thatconducted to the trap and then suddenly shot at him the question thatshould have plunged him into it, he very quietly and nimbly walkedaround the pitfall. Again and again she tried to involve him, but everwith the same result. He was abashed, ready to answer--and alwayselusive. At the end she had gained nothing from him, and for a minutestood looking silently at him in baffled exasperation. 

"Have you any further questions to ask the witness?" old Judge Kellogprompted her, with a gentle impatience. 

For a moment, stung by this witness's defeat of her, she had animpulse to turn about, point her finger at Blake in the audience, andcry out the truth to the court-room and announce what was her realline of defence. But she realized the uproar that would follow if shedared attack Blake without evidence, and she controlled herself. 

"That is all, Your Honour, " she said. 

Mr. Marcy was dismissed. The lean, frock-coated figure of Mr. Kennedyarose. 

"Doctor Sherman, " he called. 

Doctor Sherman seemed to experience some difficulty in making his wayup to the witness stand. When he faced about and sat down thedifficulty was explained to the crowd. He was plainly a sick man. Whispers of sympathy ran about the court-room. Every one knew how hehad sacrificed a friend to his sense of civic duty, and everyone knewwhat pain that act must have caused a man with such a high-strungconscience. 

With his hands tightly gripping the arms of his chair, his bright andhollow eyes fastened upon the prosecutor, Doctor Sherman began in alow voice to deliver his direct testimony. Katherine listened to himrather mechanically at first, even with a twinge of sympathy for hisobvious distress. 

But though her attention was centred here in the court-room, her brainwas subconsciously ranging swiftly over all the details of the case. Far down in the depths of her mind the question was faintly suggestingitself, if one witness is a guilty participant in the plot, then whynot possibly the other?--when she saw Doctor Sherman give a quickglance in the direction where she knew sat Harrison Blake. That glancebrought the question surging up to the surface of her conscious mind, and she sat bewildered, mentally gasping. She did not see how it couldbe, she could not understand his motive--but in the sickly face ofDoctor Sherman, in his strained manner, she now read guilt. 

Thrilling with an unexpected hope, Katherine rose and tried to keepherself before the eyes of Doctor Sherman like an accusing conscience. But he avoided her gaze, and told his story in every detail just aswhen Doctor West had been first accused. When Kennedy turned him overfor cross-examination, Katherine walked up before him and looked himstraight in the eyes a full moment without speaking. He could nolonger avoid her gaze. In his eyes she read something that seemed toher like mortal terror. 

"Doctor Sherman, " she said slowly, clearly, "is there nothing youwould like to add to your testimony?"

His words were a long time coming. Katherine's life hung suspendedwhile she waited his answer. 

"Nothing, " he said. 

"There is no fact, no detail, that you may have omitted in your directtestimony, that you now desire to supply?"

"Nothing. "

She took a step nearer, bent on him a yet more searching gaze, and putinto her voice its all of conscience-stirring power. 

"You wish to go on record then, before this court, before thisaudience, before the God whom you have appealed to in your oath, ashaving told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

He averted his eyes and was silent a moment. For that moment Blake, back in the audience, did not breathe. To the crowd it seemed thatDoctor Sherman was searching his mind for some possible trivialomission. To Katherine it seemed that he was in the throes of a finalstruggle. 

"You wish thus to go on record?" she solemnly insisted. 

He looked back at her. 

"I do, " he breathed. 

She realized now how desperate was this man's determination, howtightly his lips were locked. But she had picked up another thread ofthis tangled skein, and that made her exult with a new hope. She wentspiritedly at the cross-examination of Doctor Sherman, striving tobreak him down. So sharp, so rigid, so searching were her questions, that there were murmurs in the audience against such treatment of asincere, high-minded man of God. But the swiftness and cleverness ofher attack availed her nothing. Doctor Sherman, nerved by lastevening's talk beside the river, made never a slip. 

From the moment she reluctantly discharged him she felt that herchance--her chance for that day, at least--was gone. But she was thereto fight to the end, and she put her only witness, her father, uponthe stand. His defence, that he was the victim of a misunderstanding, was smiled at by the court-room--and smiled at with apparently goodreason, since Kennedy, in anticipation of the line of defense, hadintroduced the check from the Acme Filter Company which Dr. West hadturned over to the hospital board, to prove that the donation from thefilter company had been in Dr. West's hands at the time he hadreceived the bribe from Mr. Marcy. Dr. West testified that the lettercontaining this check had not been opened until many days after hisarrest, and Katharine took the stand and swore that it was she herselfwho had opened the envelope. But even while she testified she saw thatshe was not believed; and she had to admit within herself that herfather's story appeared absurdly implausible, compared to thetruth-visaged falsehoods of the prosecution. 

But when the evidence was all in and the time for argument was come, Katherine called up her every resource, she remembered that truth wason her side, and she presented the case clearly and logically, andended with a strong and eloquent plea for her father. As she sat down, there was a profound hush in the court-room. 

Her father squeezed her hand. Tears stood in his eyes. 

"Whatever happens, " he whispered, "I'm proud of my daughter. "

Kennedy's address was brief and perfunctory, for the case seemed tooeasy to warrant his exertion. Still stimulated by the emotion arousedby her own speech and the sense of the righteousness of her cause, Katherine watched the jury go out with a fluttering hope. She stillclung to hope when, after a short absence, the jury filed back in. Sherose and held her breath while they took their seats. 

"You have reached a verdict, gentlemen?" asked Judge Kellog. 

"We have, " answered the foreman. 

"What is it?"

"We find the defendant guilty. "

Doctor West let out a little moan, and his head fell forward into hisarms. Katherine bent over him and whispered a word of comfort into hisear; then rose and made a motion for a new trial. Judge Kellog deniedthe motion, and haltingly asked Doctor West to step forward to thebar. Doctor West did so, and the two old men, who had been friendssince childhood, looked at each other for a space. Then in a huskyvoice Judge Kellog pronounced sentence: One thousand dollars fine andsix months in the county jail. 

It was a light sentence--but enough to blacken an honest name forlife, enough to break a sensitive heart like Doctor West's. 

A little later Katherine, holding an arm of her father tightly withinher own, walked with him and fat, good-natured Sheriff Nichols over tothe old brick county jail. And yet a little later, erect, eyesstraight before her, she came down the jail steps and startedhomeward. 

As she was passing along the Square, immediately before her HarrisonBlake came out of his stairway and started across the sidewalk to hiswaiting car. Discretion urged her to silence; but passion was thestronger. She stepped squarely up before him and flashed him a blazinglook. 

"Well--and so you think you've won!" she cried in a low voice. 

His colour changed, but instantly he was master of himself. 

"What, Katherine, you still persist in that absurd idea of yesterday. "

"Oh, drop that pretence! We know each other too well for that!" Shemoved nearer and, trembling from head to foot, her passionate defianceburst all bounds. "You think you have won, don't you!" she hotlycried. "Well, let me tell you that this affair is not merely a battlethat was to-day won and ended! It's a war--and I have just begun tofight!"

And sweeping quickly past him, she walked on into Main Street and downit through the staring crowds--very erect, a red spot in either cheek, her eyes defiantly meeting every eye. 

CHAPTER XII

OPPORTUNITY KNOCKS AT BRUCE'S DOOR

On the following morning Bruce had just finished an editorial onDoctor West's trial, and was busily thumping out an editorial on thelocal political situation--the Republican and Democratic conventionswere both but a few days off--when, lifting his scowling gaze to hiswindow while searching for the particular word he needed, he sawKatherine passing along the sidewalk across the street. Her face wasfresh, her step springy; hers was any but a downcast figure. Forgetting his editorial, he watched her turn the corner of the Squareand go up the broad, worn steps of the dingy old county jail. 

"Well, what do we think of her?" queried a voice at his elbow. 

Bruce turned abruptly. 

"Oh, it's you, Billy. D'you see Blake?"

"Yes. " The young fellow sank loungingly into the atlas-seated chair. "He wouldn't say anything definite. Said it was up to the conventionto pick the candidates. But it's plain Kennedy's his choice formayor, and we'll be playing perfectly safe in predicting Kennedy'snomination. "

"And Peck?"

"Blind Charlie said it was too early to make any forecasts. In doubtas to whom they'd put forward for mayor. "

"Would Blake say anything about Doctor West's conviction?"

"Sorry for Doctor West's sake--but the case was clear--trial fair--awholesome example to the city--and some more of that line of talk. "

Bruce grunted. 

The reporter leisurely lit a cigarette. 

"But how about the lady lawyer, eh?" He playfully prodded hissuperior's calf with his pointed shoe. "I suppose you'll fire me offyour rotten old sheet for saying it, but I still think she made adamned good showing considering that she had no case--and consideringalso that she was a woman. " Again he thrust his toe into his chief. "Considering she was a woman--eh, Arn?"

"Shut up, Billy, or I _will_ fire you, " growled Bruce. 

"Oh, all right, " answered the other cheerfully. "After half a year ofthe nerve-racking social whirl of this metropolis, I think it would besort of restful to be back in dear, little, quiet Chicago. Butseriously now, Arn, you've got to admit she's good-looking?"

"Good looks don't make a lawyer!" retorted Bruce. 

"But she's clever--got ideas--opinions of her own, and strong onestoo. "

"Perhaps. "

The reporter blew out a cloud of smoke. 

"Arn, I've been thinking about a very interesting possibility. "

"Well, make it short, and get in there and write your story!"

"I've been thinking, " continued Billy meditatively, "over what aninteresting situation it would make if the super-masculine editor ofthe _Express_ should fall in love with the lady law----"

Bruce sprang up. 

"Confound you, Billy! If I don't crack that empty little----"

But Billy, tilted back in his chair, held out his cigarette caseimperturbably. 

"Take one, Arn. You'll find them very soothing for the nerves. "

"You impertinent little pup, you!" He grabbed Billy by his long hair, held him a moment--then grinned affectionately and took a cigarette. "You're the worst ever!" He dropped back into his chair. "Now shutup!"

"All right. But speaking impersonally, and with the unemotionalaloofness of a critic, you'll have to admit that it would make a gooddramatic situation. "

"Blast you!" cried the editor. "Shall I fire you, or chuck you throughthe window?"

"Inasmuch as our foremost scientists are uniformly agreed that certainunpleasant results may eventuate when the force of gravitation bringsa human organism into sudden and severe juxtaposition with a cementsidewalk, I humbly suggest that you fire me. Besides, that act willautomatically avenge me, for then your yellow old newspaper will goplum to blazes!"

"For God's sake, Billy, get out of here and let me work!"

"But, seriously, Arn--I really am serious now"--and all the mischiefhad gone out of the reporter's eyes--"that Miss West would have put upa stunning fight if she had had any sort of a case. But she hadnothing to fight with. They certainly had the goods on her old man!"

Bruce turned from his machine and regarded the reporter thoughtfully. Then he crossed and closed the door which was slightly ajar, and againfixed his eyes searchingly on young Harper. 

"Billy, " he said in a low, impressive voice, "can you keep a bigsecret?"

At Bruce's searching, thoughtful gaze a look of humility crept intoBilly's face. 

"Oh, I know you've got every right to doubt me, " he acknowledged. "Icertainly did leak a lot at the mouth in Chicago when I was boozing somuch. But you know since you pulled me out of that wild bunch I wasdrinking my way to hell with and brought me down here, I've beenscrewed tight as a board to the water-wagon!"

"I know it, Billy. I shouldn't for an instant----"

"And, Arn, " interrupted Billy, putting his arm contritely across theother's shoulder, "even though I do joke at you a little--simply can'thelp it--you know how eternally grateful I am to you! You're giving methe chance of my life to make a man of myself. People in this towndon't half appreciate you; they don't know you for what I knowyou--the best fellow that ever happened!"

"There, there! Cut it out, cut it out!" said Bruce gruffly, grippingthe other's hand. 

"That's always the way, " said Billy, resentfully. "Your only fault isthat you are so infernally bull-headed that a fellow can't even thankyou. "

"You're thanking me the right way when you keep yourself bolted fastto the water-cart. What I started out to tell you, what I want you tokeep secret, is this: They put the wrong man in jail yesterday. "

"What!" ejaculated Billy, springing up. 

"I tell you this much because I want you to keep your eye on thestory. Hell's likely to break loose there any time, and I want you tobe ready to handle it in case I should have to be off the job. "

"Good God, old man!" Billy stared at him. "What's behind all this? IfDoctor West's the wrong man, then who's the right one?"

"I can't tell you any more now. "

"But how did you find this out?"

"I said I couldn't tell you any more. "

A knowing look came slowly into Billy's face. 

"H'm. So that was what Miss West called here about day beforeyesterday. "

"Get in there and write your story, " said Bruce shortly, and again satdown before his typewriter. 

Billy stood rubbing his head dazedly for a long space, then he slowlymoved to the door. He opened it and paused. 

"Oh, I say, Arn, " he remarked in an innocent tone. 

"Yes?"

"After all, " he drawled, "it would make an interesting dramaticsituation, wouldn't it?"

Bruce whirled about and threw a statesman's year book, but youngHarper was already on the safe side of the door; and the incorrigibleBilly was saved from any further acts of reprisal being attemptedupon his person by the ringing of Bruce's telephone. 

Bruce picked up the instrument. 

"Hello. Who's this?" he demanded. 

"Mr. Peck, " was the answer. 

"What! You don't mean 'Blind Charlie'?"

"Yes. I called up to see if you could come over to the hotel for alittle talk about politics. "

"If you want to talk to me you know where to find me! Good-by!"

"Wait! Wait! What time will you be in?"

"The paper goes to press at two-thirty. Any time after then. "

"I'll drop around before three. "

Four hours later Bruce was glancing through that afternoon's paper, damp from the press, when there entered his office a stout, half-baldman of sixty-five, with loose, wrinkled, pouchy skin, drooping nose, and a mouth--stained faintly brown at its corners--whose cunning wasnot entirely masked by a good-natured smile. One eye had a shrewd andbeady brightness; the gray film over the other announced it withoutsight. This was "Blind Charlie" Peck, the king of Calloway Countypolitics until Blake had hurled him from his throne. 

Bruce greeted the fallen monarch curtly and asked him to sit down. Bruce did not resume his seat, but half leaned against his desk andeyed Blind Charlie with open disfavour. 

The old man settled himself and smiled his good-natured smile at theeditor. 

"Well, Mr. Bruce, this is mighty dry weather we're having. "

"Yes. What do you want?"

"Well--well--" said the old man, a little taken aback, "you certainlydo jump into the middle of things. "

"I've found that the quickest way to get there, " retorted Bruce. "Youknow there's no use in you and me wasting any words. You know wellenough what I think of you. "

"I ought to, " returned Blind Charlie, dryly, but with good humour. "You've said it often enough. "

"Well, that there may be no mistake about it, I'll say it once more. You're a good-natured, good-hearted, cunning, unprincipled, hardenedold rascal of a politician. Now if you don't want to say what you camehere to say, the same route that brings you in here takes you out. "

"Come, come, " said the old man, soothingly. "I think you have said alot of harder things than were strictly necessary--especially since weboth belong to the same party. "

"That's one reason I've said them. You've been running the party mostof your life--you're still running it--and see what you've made ofit. Every decent member is ashamed of it! It stinks all through thestate!"

Blind Charlie's face did not lose its smile of imperturbable goodnature. It was a tradition of Calloway County that he had never losthis temper. 

"You're a very young man, Mr. Bruce, " said the old politician, "andyoung blood loves strong language. But suppose we get away frompersonalities, and get away from the party's past and talk about itspresent and its future. "

"I don't see that it has any present or future to talk about, with youat the helm. "

"Oh, come now! Granted that my ways haven't been the best for theparty. Granted that you don't like me. Is that any reason we shouldn'tat least talk things over? Now, I admit we don't stand the shadow of aghost's show this election unless we make some changes. You representthe element in the party that has talked most for changes, and I havecome to get your views. "

Bruce studied the loose-skinned, flabby face, wondering what was goingon behind that old mask. 

"What are your own views?" he demanded shortly. 

Blind Charlie had taken out a plug of tobacco and with a jack-knifehad cut off a thin slice. This, held between thumb and knife-blade, he now slowly transferred to his mouth. 

"Perhaps they're nearer your own than you think. I see, too, that theold ways won't serve us now. Blake will put up a good ticket. I hearKennedy is to be his mayor. The whole ticket will be men who'll berespectable, but they'll see that Blake gets what he wants. Isn't thatso?"

Bruce thought suddenly of Blake's scheme to capture the water-works. 

"Very likely, " he admitted. 

"Now between ourselves, " the old man went on confidingly, "we knowthat Blake has been getting what he wants for years--of course in aquiet, moderate way. Did you ever think of this, how the people herecall me a 'boss' but never think of Blake as one? Blake's an 'eminentcitizen. ' When the fact is, he's a stronger, cleverer boss than I everwas. My way is the old way; it's mostly out of date. Blake's way isthe new way. He's found out that the best method to get the people isto be clean, or to seem clean. If I wanted a thing I used to go outand grab it. If Blake wants a thing he makes it appear that he'swilling to go to considerable personal trouble to take it in order todo a favour to the city, and the people fall all over themselves togive it to him. He's got the churches lined up as solid behind himas I used to have the saloons. Now I know we can't beat Blake withthe kind of a ticket our party has been putting up. And I know wecan't beat Blake with a respectable ticket, for between ourrespectables----"

"Charlie Peck's respectables!" Bruce interrupted ironically. 

"And Blake's respectables, " the old man continued imperturbably, "thepeople will choose Blake's. Are my conclusions right so far?"

"Couldn't be more right. What next?"

"As I figure it out, our only chance, and that a bare fighting chance, is to put up men who are not only irreproachable, but who are radicalsand fighters. We've got to do something new, big, sensational, orwe're lost. "

"Well?" said Bruce. 

"I was thinking, " said Blind Charlie, "that our best move would be torun you for mayor. "

"Me?" cried Bruce, starting forward. 

"Yes. You've got ideas. And you're a fighter. "

Bruce scrutinized the old face, all suspicion. 

"See here, Charlie, " he said abruptly, "what the hell's your game?"

"My game?"

"Oh, come! Don't expect me to believe in you when you pose as areformer!"

"See here, Bruce, " said the other a little sharply, "you've called meabout every dirty word lying around handy in the Middle West. But younever called me a hypocrite. "

"No. "

"Well, I'm not coming to you now pretending that I've been holding alittle private revival, and that I've been washed in the blood of theLamb. "

"Then what's behind this? What's in it for you?"

"I'll tell you--though of course I can't make you believe me if youdon't want to. I'm getting pretty old--I'm sixty-seven. I may not livetill another campaign. I'd like to see the party win once more beforeI go. That's one thing. Another is, I've got it in for Blake, and wantto see him licked. I can't do either in my way. I can possibly do bothin your way. Mere personal satisfaction like this would have beenmighty little for me to have got out of an election in the old days. But it's better than nothing at all"--smiling good-naturedly--"even toa cunning, unprincipled, hardened old rascal of a politician. "

"But what's the string tied to this offer?"

"None. You can name the ticket, write the platform----"

"It would be a radical one!" warned Bruce. 

"It would have to be radical. Our only chance is in creating asensation. "

"And if elected?"

"You shall make every appointment without let or hindrance. I know I'dbe a fool to try to bind you in any way. "

Bruce was silent a long time, studying the wrinkled old face. 

"Well, what do you say?" queried Blind Charlie. 

"Frankly, I don't like being mixed up with you. "

"But you believe in using existing party machinery, don't you? You'vesaid so in the _Express_. "

"Yes. But I also have said that I don't believe in using it the wayyou have. "

"Well, here's your chance to take it and use it your own way. "

"But what show would I stand? Feeling in town is running strongagainst radical ideas. "

"I know, I know. But you are a fighter, and with your energy you mightturn the current. Besides, something big may happen before election. "

That same thought had been pulsing excitedly in Bruce's brain theselast few minutes. If Katherine could only get her evidence!

Bruce moved to the window and looked out so that that keen one eye ofBlind Charlie might not perceive the exultation he could no longerkeep out of his face. Bruce did not see the tarnished dome of theCourt House--nor the grove of broad elms, shrivelled and dusty--northe enclosing quadrangle of somnolent, drooping farm horses. He wasseeing this town shaken as by an explosion. He was seeing cataclysmicbattle, with Blind Charlie become a nonentity, Blake completelyannihilated, and himself victorious at the front. And, dream of hisdreams! he was seeing himself free to reshape Westville upon his ownideals. 

"Well, what do you say?" asked Blind Charlie. 

Controlling himself, Bruce turned about. 

"I accept, upon the conditions you have named. But at the first signof an attempt to limit those conditions, I throw the whole businessoverboard. "

"There will be no such attempt, so we can consider the mattersettled. " Blind Charlie held out his hand, which Bruce, with somehesitation, accepted. "I congratulate you, I congratulate myself, Icongratulate the party. With you as leader, I think we've all got afighting chance to win. "

They discussed details of Bruce's candidacy, they discussed theconvention; and a little later Blind Charlie departed. Bruce, fistsdeep in trousers pockets, paced up and down his little office, or satfar down in his chair gazing at nothing, in excited, searchingthought. Billy Harper and other members of the staff, who came in tohim with questions, were answered absently with monosyllables. Atlength, when the Court House clock droned the hour of five through thehot, burnt-out air, Bruce washed his hands and brawny fore-arms at theold iron sink in the rear of the reporter's room, put on his coat, andstrode up Main Street. But instead of following his habit and turningoff into Station Avenue, where was situated the house in which he andOld Hosie ate and slept and had their quarrels, he continued his wayand turned into an avenue beyond--on his face the flush of defiantfirmness of the bold man who finds himself doing the exact thing hehad sworn that he would never do. 

He swung open the gate of the West yard, and with firm step went up tothe house and rang the bell. When the screen swung open Katherineherself was in the doorway--looking rather excited, trimly dressed, onher head a little hat wound with a veil. 

"May I come in?" he asked shortly. 

"Why, certainly, " and she stepped aside. 

"I didn't know. "

He bowed and entered the parlour and stood rather stiffly in thecentre of the room. 

"My reason for daring to violate your prohibition of three days ago, and enter this house, is that I have something to tell you that mayprove to have some bearing upon your father's case. "

"Please sit down. When I apologized to you I considered the apology asequivalent to removing all signs against trespassing. "

They sat down, and for a moment they gazed at each other, stillfeeling themselves antagonists, though allies--she smilingly at herease, he grimly serious. 

"Now, please, what is it?" she asked. 

Bruce, speaking reservedly at first, told her of Blind Charlie'soffer. As he spoke he warmed up and was quite excited when he ended. "And now, " he cried, "don't you see how this works in with the fightto clear your father? It's a great opportunity--haven't thought outyet just how we can use it--that will depend upon developments, perhaps--but it's a great opportunity! We'll sweep Blake completelyand utterly from power, reinstate your father in position and honour, and make Westville the finest city of the Middle West!"

But she did not seem to be fired by the torch of his enthusiasm. Infact, there was a thoughtful, questioning look upon her face. 

"Well, what do you think of it?" he demanded. 

"I have been given to understand, " she said pleasantly, "that it isunwomanly to have opinions upon politics. "

He winced. 

"This is hardly the time for sarcasm. What do you think?"

"If you want my frank opinion, I am rather inclined to beware ofGreeks bearing gifts, " she replied. 

"What do you mean?"

"When a political boss, and a boss notoriously corrupt, offers anoffice to a good man, I think the good man should be very, verysuspicious. "

"You think Peck has some secret corrupt purpose? I've beenscrutinizing the offer for two hours. I know the ins and outs of thelocal political situation from A to Z. I know all Peck's tricks. But Ihave not found the least trace of a hidden motive. "

"Perhaps you haven't found it because it's hidden so shrewdly, sodeeply, that it can't be seen. "

"I haven't found it because it's not there to find!" retorted Bruce. "Peck's motive is just what he told me; I'm convinced he was tellingthe truth. It's a plain case, and not an uncommon case, of apolitician preferring the chance of victory with a good ticket, tocertain defeat with a ticket more to his liking. "

"I judge, then, that you are inclined to accept. "

"I have accepted, " said Bruce. 

"I hope it will turn out better than worst suspicion might make usfear. "

"Oh, it will!" he declared. "And mark me, it's going to turn out afar bigger thing for your father than you seem to realize. "

"I hope that more fervently than do you!"

"I suppose you are going to keep up your fight for your father?"

"I expect to do what I can, " she answered calmly. 

"What are you going to do?"

She smiled sweetly, apologetically. 

"You forget only one day has passed since the trial. You can hardlyexpect a woman's mind to lay new plans as quickly as a man's. "

Bruce looked at her sharply, as though there might be irony in this;but her face was without guile. She glanced at her watch. 

"Pardon me, " he said, noticing this action and standing up. "You haveyour hat on; you were going out?"

"Yes. And I'm afraid I must ask you to excuse me. " She gave him herhand. "I hope you don't mind my saying it, but if I were you I'd keepall the eyes I've got on Mr. Peck. "

"Oh, I'll not let him fool me!" he answered confidently. 

As he walked out of the yard he was somewhat surprised to see theancient equipage of Mr. Huggins waiting beside the curb. And he wasrather more surprised when a few minutes later, as he neared his home, Mr. Huggins drove past him toward the station, with Katherine in theseat behind him. In response to her possessed little nod he amazedlylifted his hat. "Now what the devil is she up to?" he ejaculated, andstared after her till the old carriage turned in beside the stationplatform. As he reached his gate the eastbound Limited came roaringinto the station. The truth dawned upon him. "By God, " he cried, "ifshe isn't going back to New York!"

CHAPTER XIII

THE DESERTER

Bruce was incensed at the cool manner in which Katherine had takenleave of him without so much as hinting at her purpose. In offeringher aid and telling her his plans he had made certain advances. Shehad responded to these overtures by telling nothing. He felt he hadbeen snubbed, and he resented such treatment all the more from a womantoward whom he had somewhat relaxed his dignity and his principles. 

As he sat alone on his porch that night he breathed out along with hissmoke an accompanying fire of profanity; but for all his wrath, hecould not keep the questions from arising. Why had she gone? What wasshe going to do? Was she coming back? Had she given up her father'scase, and had she been silent to him that afternoon about her goingfor the simple reason that she had been ashamed to acknowledge herretreat?

He waited impatiently for the return of his uncle, who had been absentthat evening from supper. He thought that Hosie might answer thesequestions since he knew the old man to be on friendly terms withKatherine. But when Old Hosie did shuffle up the gravel walk, he wasalmost as much at a loss as his nephew. True, a note from Katherinehad been thrust under his door telling him she wished to talk with himthat afternoon; but he had spent the day looking at farms and had notfound the note till his return from the country half an hour before. 

Bruce flung away his cigar in exasperation, and the dry nightair was vibrant with half-whispered but perfervid curses. She wasirritating, erratic, irrational, irresponsible--preposterous, simplypreposterous--damn that kind of women anyhow! They pretended to be alot, but there wasn't a damned thing to them!

But he could not subdue his curiosity, though he fervently informedhimself of the thousand and one kinds of an unblessed fool he was forbothering his head about her. Nor could he banish her image. Herfigure kept rising before him out of the hot, dusty blackness: as shehad appeared before the jury yesterday, slender, spirited, clever--yes, she had spoken cleverly, he would admit that; as she hadappeared in her parlour that afternoon, a graceful, courteous, self-possessed home person; as he had seen her in Mr. Huggins's oldsurrey, with her exasperating, non-committal, cool little nod. Butwhy, oh, why, in the name of the flaming rendezvous of lost andsizzling souls couldn't a woman with her qualities also have just onegrain--only one single little grain!--of the commonest common-sense?

The next morning Bruce sent young Harper to inquire from Doctor Westin the jail, and after that from Katherine's aunt, why Katherine hadgone to New York, whether she had abandoned the case, and whether shehad gone for good. But if these old people knew anything, they did nottell it to Billy Harper. 

Westville buzzed over Katherine's disappearance. The piazzas, thesoda-water fountains, the dry goods counters, the Ladies' Aid, were atno loss for an explanation of her departure. She had lost hercase--she had discovered that she was a failure as a lawyer--she hadlearned what Westville thought of her--so what other course was opento her but to slip out of town as quietly as she could and return tothe place from which she had come?

The Women's Club in particular rejoiced at her withdrawal. Thank God, a pernicious example to the rising young womanhood of the town was atlast removed! Perhaps woman's righteous disapproval of Katherine had adeeper reason than was expressed--for what most self-searching persontruly knows the exact motives that prompt his actions? Perhaps, fardown within these righteously indignant bosoms, was unconsciously butpotently this question: if that type of woman succeeds and wins man'sapproval, then what is going to become of us who have been built uponman's former taste? At any rate, feminine Westville declared it ablessing that "that terrible thing" was gone. 

Westville continued to buzz, but it soon had matters more worth itsbuzzing. Pressing the heels of one another there came two amazingsurprises. The city had taken for granted the nomination of Kennedyfor mayor, but the convention's second ballot declared Blake thenominee. Blake had given heed to Mr. Brown's advice and had decided totake no slightest risk; but to the people he let it be known that hehad accepted the nomination to help the city out of its water-workspredicament, and Westville, recognizing his personal sacrifice, rangwith applause of his public spirit. The respectable element lookedforward with self-congratulation to him as the next chief of thecity--for he would have an easy victory over any low politician whowould consent to be Blind Charlie's candidate. 

Then, without warning, came Bruce's nomination, with a splendid listof lesser candidates, and upon a most progressive platform. Westvillegasped again. Then recovering from its amazement, it was inclined totake this nomination as a joke. But Bruce soon checked theirjocularity. That he was fighting for an apparently defunct causeseemed to make no difference to him. Perhaps Old Hosie had spoken morewisely than he had intended when he had once sarcastically remarkedthat Bruce was "a cross between a bulldog and Don Quixote. " Certainlythe qualities of both strains were now in evidence. He spranginstantly into the campaign, and by the power and energy of hisspeeches and of his editorials in the _Express_, he fairly raised hisissue from the dead. Bruce did not have a show, declared thepeople--not the ghost of a show--but if he maintained the ferociousearnestness with which he was starting out, this certainly was goingto be the hottest campaign which Westville had seen since Blake hadoverthrown Blind Charlie Peck. 

People recalled Katherine now and then to wonder what she was doingand how mortified she must feel over her fiasco, and to laughgood-naturedly or sarcastically at the pricked soap-bubble of herpretensions. But the newer and present excitement of the campaign wasforcing her into the comparative insignificance of all recedingphenomena--when, one late September Sunday morning, Westville, orthat select portion of Westville which attended the Wabash AvenueChurch, was astonished by the sight of Katherine West walking verycomposedly up the church's left aisle, looking in exceedingly goodhealth and particularly stunning in a tailor-made gown of rich browncorduroy. 

She quietly entered a vacant pew and slipped to a position whichallowed her an unobstructed view of Doctor Sherman, and which allowedDoctor Sherman an equally unobstructed view of her. Worshippers whostared her way noticed that she seemed never to take her gaze from thefigure in the pulpit; and it was remarked, after the service was over, that though Doctor Sherman's discourses had been falling off oflate--poor man, his health was failing so!--to-day's was quite thepoorest sermon he had ever preached. 

The service ended, Katherine went quietly out of the church, smilingand bowing to such as met her eyes, and leaving an active tongue inevery mouth behind her. So she had come back! Well, of all the nerve!Did you ever! Was she going to stay? What did she think she was goingto do? And so on all the way home, to where awaited the heavy Sundaydinner on which Westville gorged itself python-like--if it be notsacrilege to compare communicants with such heathen beasts--till theycould scarcely move; till, toward three o'clock, the church papersank down upon the distended stomachs of middle age, and there arosefrom all the easy chairs of Westville an unrehearsed and somewhatinarticulate, but very hearty, hymnal in praise of the bounty of theCreator. 

At about the time Westville was starting up this chorus, Old HosieHollingsworth, in Katherine's parlour, deposited his rusty silk hatupon the square mahogany piano that had been Doctor West's weddinggift to his wife. The old lawyer lowered himself into a rocker, crossed his attenuated legs, and shook his head. 

"Land sakes--I certainly was surprised to get your note!" he repeated. "When did you get back?"

"Late last night. "

He stared admiringly at her fresh young figure. 

"I must say, you don't look much like a lawyer who has lost her firstcase and has sneaked out of town to hide her mortification!"

"Is that what people have been saying?" she smiled. "Well, I don'tfeel like one!"

"Then you haven't given up?"

"Given up?" She lifted her eyebrows. "I've just begun. It's still ahard case, perhaps a long case; but at last I have a start. And I havesome great plans. It was to ask your advice about these plans that Isent for you. "

"My advice! Huh! I ain't ever been married--not even so much as once, "he commented dryly, "but I've been told by unfortunates that have thatit's the female way to do a thing and then ask whether she should doit or not. "

"Now, don't be cynical!" laughed Katherine. "You know I tried toconsult you before I went away. But it still is not too late for youradvice. I'll put my plans before you, and if your masculine wisdom, whose superiority you have proved by keeping yourself unmarried, canshow me wherein I'm wrong, I'll change them or drop them altogether. "

"Fire away, " he said, half grumbling. "What are your plans?"

"They're on a rather big scale. First, I shall put a detective on thecase. "

"That's all right, but don't you underestimate Harrison Blake, " warnedOld Hosie. "Since you've come back Blake will be sure you're afterhim. He will be on his guard against you; he will expect you to use adetective; he will watch out for him, perhaps try to have his everymove shadowed. I suppose you never thought of that?" he demandedtriumphantly. 

"Oh, yes I did, " Katherine returned. "That's why I'm going to hire twodetectives. "

The old man raised his eyebrows. 

"Two detectives?"

"Yes. One for Mr. Blake to watch. One to do the real work. "

"Oh!" It was an ejaculation of dawning comprehension. 

"The first detective will be a mere blind; a decoy to engage Mr. Blake's attention. He must be a little obvious, rather blundering--sothat Mr. Blake can't miss him. He will know nothing about my realscheme at all. While Mr. Blake's attention and suspicion are fixed onthe first man, the second man, who is to be a real detective with realbrains in his head, will get in the real work. "

"Splendid! Splendid!" cried Old Hosie, looking at herenthusiastically. "And yet that pup of a nephew of mine sniffs out, 'Her a lawyer? Nothing! She's only a woman!'"

Katherine flushed. "That's what I want Mr. Blake to think. "

"To underestimate you--yes, I see. Have you got your first man?"

"No. I thought you might help me find him, for a local man, or a stateman, will be best; it will be easiest for him to be found out to be adetective. "

"I've got just the article for you, " cried Old Hosie. "You know ElijahStone?"

"No. But, of course, I've seen him. "

"He's Westville's best and only. He thinks he's something terrible asa detective--what you might call a hyper-super-ultra detective. Detective sticks out big all over him--like a sort of universal mumps. He never looks except when he looks cautiously out of the corner ofhis eye; he walks on his tiptoes; he talks in whispers; he simplyoozes mystery. Fat head?--why, Lige Stone wears his hat on a can oflard!"

"Come, I'm not engaging a low comedian for a comic opera. "

"Oh, he's not so bad as I said. He's really got a reputation. He'sjust the kind of a detective that an inexperienced girl might pick up. Blake will soon find out you've hired him, he'll believe it a bonafide arrangement on your part, and will have a lot of quiet laughs atyour simplicity. God made Lige especially for you. "

"All right. I'll see him to-morrow. "

"Have you thought about the other detective?"

"Yes. One reason I went to New York was to try to get a particularperson--Mr. Manning, with whom I've worked on some cases for theMunicipal League. He has six children, and is very much in love withhis wife. The last thing he looks like is a detective. He might passfor a superintendent of a store, or a broker. But he's very, verycompetent and clever, and is always master of himself. "

"And you got him?"

"Yes. But he can't come for a couple of weeks. He is finishing up acase for the Municipal League. "

"How are you going to use him?"

"I don't just know yet. Perhaps I can fit him into a second scheme ofmine. You've heard of Mr. Seymour, of Seymour & Burnett?"

"The big bankers and brokers?"

"Yes. I knew Elinor Seymour at Vassar, and I visited her severaltimes; and as Mr. Seymour is president of the Municipal League, altogether I saw him quite a great deal. I don't mean to be conceited, but I really believe Mr. Seymour has a lot of confidence in me. "

"That's a fine compliment to his sense, " Old Hosie put in. 

"He's about the most decent of the big capitalists, " she went on. "Hewas my second reason for going to New York. When I got there he hadjust left to spend a week-end in Paris, or something of the sort. Ihad to wait till he came back; that's why I was gone so long. I wentto him with a plain business proposition. I gave him a hint of thesituation out here, told him there was a chance the water-works mightbe sold, and asked authority to buy the system in for him. "

"And how did he take it?" Old Hosie asked eagerly. 

"You behold in me an accredited agent of Seymour & Burnett. I don'tknow yet how I shall use that authority, but if I can't do anythingbetter, and if the worst comes to the very worst, I'll buy in theplant, defeat Mr. Blake, and see that the city gets something like afair price for its property. "

Old Hosie stared at her in open admiration. "Well, if you don't beatthe band!" he exclaimed. 

"In the meantime, I shall busy myself with trying to get my father'scase appealed. But that is really only a blind; behind that I shallevery minute be watching Mr. Blake. Now, what do you think of myplans? You know I called you in for your advice. "

"Advice! You need advice about as much as an angel needs a hat pin!"

"But I'm willing to change my plans if you have any suggestions. "

"I was a conceited old idiot when I was a little sore awhile agobecause you had called me in for my opinion after you had settledeverything. Go right ahead. It's fine. Fine, I tell you!" He chuckled. "And to think that Harrison Blake thinks he's bucking up against onlya woman. Just a simple, inexperienced, dear, bustling, blunderingwoman! What a jar he's got coming to him!"

"We mustn't be too hopeful, " warned Katherine. "There's a long, hardfight ahead. Perhaps my plan may not work out. And remember that, after all, I am only a woman. "

"But if you do win!" His old eyes glowed excitedly. "Your fathercleared, the idol of the town upset, the water-works saved--think whata noise all that will make!"

A new thought slowly dawned into his face. "H'm--this old town hasn'tbeen, well, exactly hospitable to you; has laughed at you--sneered atyou--given you the cold shoulder. "

"Has it? What do I care!"

"It would be sort of nice, now wouldn't it, " he continued slowly, keenly, with his subdued excitement, "sort of heaping coals of fire onWestville's roofs, if the town, after having cut you dead, should findthat it had been saved by you. I suppose you've never thought of thataspect of the case--eh? I suppose it has never occurred to you that insaving your father you'll also save the town?"

She flushed--and smiled a little. 

"Oh, so we've already thought of that, have we. I see I can't suggestanything new to you. Let the old town jeer all it wants to now, we'llshow 'em in the end!--is that it?"

She smiled again, but did not answer him. 

"Now you'll excuse me, won't you, for I promised to call on fatherthis afternoon?"

"Certainly. " He rose. "How is your father--or haven't you seen himyet?"

"I called at the jail first thing this morning. He's very cheerful. "

"That's good. Well, good-by. "

Old Hosie was reaching for his hat, but just then a firm step soundedon the porch and there was a ring of the bell. Katherine crossed theparlour and swung open the screen. Standing without the door wasBruce, a challenging, defiant look upon his face. 

"Why, Mr. Bruce, " she exclaimed, smiling pleasantly. "Won't you pleasecome in?"

"Thank you, " he said shortly. 

He bowed and entered, but stopped short at sight of his uncle. 

"Hello! You here?"

"Just to give an off-hand opinion, I should say I am. " Old Hosiesmiled sweetly, put his hat back upon the piano and sank into hischair. "I just dropped in to tell Miss Katherine some of those veryclever and cutting things you've said to me about the idea of a womanbeing a lawyer. I've been expostulating with her--trying to show herthe error of her ways--trying to prove to her that she wasn't reallyclever and didn't have the first qualification for law. "

"You please let me speak for myself!" retorted Bruce. "How long areyou going to stay here?"

Old Hosie recrossed his long legs and settled back with the air of therock of ages. 

"Why, I was expecting Miss Katherine was going to invite me to stay tosupper. "

"Well, I guess you won't. You please remember this is your month tolook after Jim. Now you trot along home and see that he don't fry thesteak to a shingle the way you let him do it last night. "

"Last night I was reading your editorial on the prospects of thecorn crop and I got so worked up as to how it was coming out thatI forgot all about that wooden-headed nigger. I tell you, Arn, thateditorial was one of the most exciting, stirring, nerve-racking, hair-breadth----"

"Come, get along with you!" Bruce interrupted impatiently. "I want totalk some business with Miss West!"

Old Hosie rose. 

"You see how he treats me, " he said plaintively to Katherine. "Ihaven't had one kind word from that young pup since, when he was inhigh-school, he got so stuck on himself because he imagined every girlin town was in love with him. "

Bruce took Old Hosie's silk hat from the piano and held it out to him. 

"You certainly won't get a kind word from me to-night if that steak isburnt!"

Katherine followed Hosie out upon the porch. 

"He's a great boy, " whispered the old man proudly--"if only I canlick his infernal conceit out of him!" He gripped her hand. "Good-by, and luck with you!"

She watched the bent, spare figure down the walk, then went in toBruce. The editor was standing stiffly in the middle of the parlour. 

"I trust that my call is not inopportune?"

"I'm glad to see you, but it does so happen that I promised father tocall at five o'clock. And it's now twenty minutes to. "

"Perhaps you will allow me to walk there with you?"

"But wouldn't that be, ah--a little dangerous?"

"Dangerous?"

"Yes. Perhaps you forget that Westville disapproves of me. It mightnot be a very politic thing for a candidate for mayor to be seen uponthe street with so unpopular a person. It might cost votes, you know. "

He flushed. 

"If the people in this town don't like what I do, they can vote forHarrison Blake!" He swung open the door. "If you want to get there ontime, we must start at once. "

Two minutes later they were out in the street together. People whomthey passed paused and stared back at them; groups of young men andwomen, courting collectively on front lawns, ceased their flirtatiouschaffing and their bombardments with handfuls of loose grass, andnudged one another and sat with eyes fixed on the passing pair; andmany a solid burgher, out on his piazza, waking from his devotionaland digestive nap, blinked his eyes unbelievingly at the sight of acandidate for mayor walking along the street with that discreditedlady lawyer who had fled the town in chagrin after losing her firstcase. 

At the start Katherine kept the conversation upon Bruce's candidacy. He told her that matters were going even better than he had hoped; andinformed her, with an air of triumph he did not try to conceal, thatBlind Charlie Peck had been giving him an absolutely free rein, andthat he was more than ever convinced that he had correctly judged thatpolitician's motives. Katherine meekly accepted this implicit rebukeof her presumption, and congratulated him upon the vindication of hisjudgment. 

"But I came to you to talk about your affairs, not mine, " he said asthey turned into Main Street. "I half thought, when you left, that youhad gone for good. But your coming back proves you haven't given up. May I ask what your plans are, and how they are developing?"

Her eyes dropped to the sidewalk, and she seemed to be embarrassed forwords. It was not wholly his fault that he interpreted her ascrest-fallen, for Katherine was not lacking in the wiles of Eve. 

"Your plans have not been prospering very well, then?" he asked, aftera pause. 

"Oh, don't think that; I still have hopes, " she answered hurriedly. "Iam going to keep right on at the case--keep at it hard. "

"Were you successful in what you went to New York for?"

"I can't tell yet. It's too early. But I hope something will come ofit. "

He tried to get a glimpse of her face, but she kept it fixed upon theground--to hide her discomfiture, he thought. 

"Now listen to me, " he said kindly, with the kindness of the superiormind. "Here's what I came to tell you, and I hope you won't take itamiss. I admire you for the way you took your father's case when noother lawyer would touch it. You have done your best. But now, Ijudge, you are at a standstill. At this particular moment it is highlyimperative that the case go forward with highest speed. You understandme?"

"I think I do, " she said meekly. "You mean that a man could do muchbetter with the case than a woman?"

"Frankly, yes--still meaning no offense to you. You see how much hangsupon your father's case besides his own honour. There is theelection, the whole future of the city. You see we are really facing acrisis. We have got to have quick action. In this crisis, being in thedark as to what you were doing, and feeling a personal responsibilityin the matter, I have presumed to hint at the outlines of the case toa lawyer friend of mine in Indianapolis; and I have engaged him, subject to your approval, to take charge of the matter. "

"Of course, " said Katherine, her eyes still upon the sidewalk, "thisman lawyer would expect to be the chief counsel?"

"Being older, and more experienced----"

"And being a man, " Katherine softly supplied. 

"He of course would expect to have full charge--naturally, " Bruceconcluded. 

"Naturally, " echoed Katherine. 

"Of course you would agree to that?"

"I was just trying to think what a man would do, " she saidmeditatively, in the same soft tone. "But I suppose a man, after hehad taken a case when no one else would take it, when it washopeless--after he had spent months upon it, made himself unpopular byrepresenting an unpopular cause, and finally worked out a line ofdefense that, when the evidence is gained, will not only clear hisclient but astound the city--after he had triumph and reputationalmost within his grasp, I suppose a man would be quite willing tostep down and out and hand over the glory to a newcomer. "

He looked at her sharply. But her face, or what he saw of it, showedno dissembling. 

"But you are not stating the matter fairly, " he said. "You shouldconsider the fact that you are at the end of your rope!"

"Yes, I suppose I should consider that, " she said slowly. 

They were passing the Court House now. He tried to study her face, butit continued bent upon the sidewalk, as if in thought. They reachedthe jail, and she mounted the first step. 

"Well, what do you say?" he asked. 

She slowly raised her eyes and looked down on him guilelessly. 

"You've been most thoughtful and kind--but if it's just the same toyou, I'd like to keep on with the case a little longer alone. "

"What!" he ejaculated. He stared at her. "I don't know what to make ofyou!" he cried in exasperation. 

"Oh, yes you do, " she assured him sweetly, "for you've been trying tomake very little of me. "

"Eh! See here, I half believe you don't want my aid!" he blurted out. 

Standing there above him, smiling down upon him, she could hardlyresist telling him the truth--that sooner would she allow her righthand to be burnt off than to accept aid from a man who had flauntedand jeered at her lawyership--that it was her changeless determinationnot to tell him one single word about her plans--that it was herpurpose to go silently ahead and let her success, should she succeed, be her reply to his unbelief. But she checked the impulse to fling thetruth in his face--and instead continued to smile inscrutably downupon him. 

"I hope that you will do all for my father, for the city, for your ownelection, that you can, " she said. "All I ask is that for the presentI be allowed to handle the case by myself. "

The Court House tower tolled five. She held out to him a gloved hand. 

"Good-by. I'm sorry I can't invite you in, " she said lightly, andturned away. 

He watched the slender figure go up the steps and into the jail, thenturned and walked down the street--exasperated, puzzled, in profoundthought. 

CHAPTER XIV

THE NIGHT WATCH

The next morning Elijah Stone appeared in Katherine's office as perrequest. He was a thickly, if not solidly, built gentleman, inimminent danger of a double chin, and with that submerged blackness ofthe complexion which is the result of a fresh-shaven heavy beard. Hekept his jaw clinched to give an appearance of power, and his blackeyebrows lowered to diffuse a sense of deeply pondered mystery. Hiswife considered him a rarely handsome specimen of his sex, and hepermitted art to supplement the acknowledged gifts of nature so far asto perfume his glossy black hair, to wear a couple of large diamondrings, and to carry upon the watch chain that clanked heavily acrossthe broad and arching acreage of his waistcoat a begemmed lodge emblemin size a trifle smaller than a paper weight. 

He was an affable, if somewhat superior, being, and he listened toKatherine with a still further lowering of his impressive brows. Sheinformed him, in a perplexed, helpless, womanly way, that she wasinclined to believe that her father was "the victim of foul play"--theblack brows sank yet another degree--and that she wished him privatelyto investigate the matter. He of course would know far, far betterwhat to do than she, but she would suggest that he keep an eye uponBlake. At first Mr. Stone appeared somewhat sceptical and hesitant, but after peering darkly out for a long and ruminative period at thedusty foliage of the Court House elms, and after hearing thecomfortable fee Katherine was willing to pay, he consented to acceptthe case. As he left he kindly assured her, with manly pity for herwoman's helplessness, that if there was anything in her suspicion she"needn't waste no sleep now about gettin' the goods. "

In the days that followed, Katherine saw her Monsieur Lecoqueshadowing the movements of Blake with the lightness and generalunobtrusiveness of a mahogany bedstead ambling about upon its castors. She soon guessed that Blake perceived that he was being watched, andshe imagined how he must be smiling up his sleeve at her simplicity. Had the matters at stake not been so grave, had she been more certainof the issue, she might have put her own sleeve to a similar purpose. 

In the meantime, as far as she could do so without exciting suspicion, she kept close watch upon Blake. It had occurred to her that therewas a chance that he had an unknown accomplice whose discovery wouldmake the gaining of the rest of the evidence a simple matter. Therewas a chance that he might let slip some revealing action. At anyrate, till Mr. Manning came, her rôle was to watch with unsleeping eyefor developments. Her office window commanded the entrance to Blake'ssuite of rooms, and no one went up by day whom she did not see. Herbedroom commanded Blake's house and grounds, and every night she satat her darkened window till the small hours and watched for possiblesuspicious visitors, or possible suspicious movements on the part ofBlake. 

Also she did not forget Doctor Sherman. On the day of her departurefor New York, she had called upon Doctor Sherman, and in the privacyof his study had charged him with playing a guilty part in Blake'sconspiracy. She had been urged to this course by the slender chancethat, when directly accused as she had dared not accuse him in thecourt-room, he might break down and confess. But Doctor Sherman haddenied her charge and had clung to the story he had told upon thewitness stand. Since Katherine had counted but little on this chance, she had gone away but little disappointed. 

But she did not now let up upon the young minister. Regularattendance at church had of late years not been one of Katherine'svirtues, but after her return it was remarked that she did not miss asingle service at which Doctor Sherman spoke. She always tried to sitin the very centre of his vision, seeking to keep ever before hismind, while he preached God's word, the sin he had committed againstGod's law and man's. He visibly grew more pale, more thin, moredistraught. The changes inspired his congregation with concern; theybegan to talk of overwork, of the danger of a breakdown; and seeingthe dire possibility of losing so popular and pew-filling a pastor, they began to urge upon him the need of a long vacation. 

Katherine could not but also give attention to the campaign, since itwas daily growing more sensational, and was completely engrossing thetown. Blake, in his speeches, stood for a continuance of the rule thathad made Westville so prosperous, and dwelt especially upon animprovement in the service of the water-works, though as to the natureof the improvements he confined himself to language that was somewhatvague. Katherine heard him often. He was always eloquent, clever, forceful, with a manly grace of presence upon the platform--just whatshe, and just what the town, expected him to be. 

But the surprise of the campaign, to Katherine and to Westville, wasArnold Bruce. Katherine had known Bruce to be a man of energy; now, inher mind, a forceful if not altogether elegant phrase of Carlyleattached itself to him--"A steam-engine in pants. " He was neverclever, never polished, he never charmed with the physical grace ofhis opponent, but he spoke with a power, an earnestness, and an energythat were tremendous. By the main strength of his ideas and hispersonality he seemed to bear down the prejudice against the principlefor which he stood. He seemed to stand out in the mid-current ofhostile opinion and by main strength hurl it back into its formercourse. The man's efforts were nothing less than herculean. He was abigger man, a more powerful man, than Westville had ever dreamed; andhis spirited battle against such apparently hopeless odds had acompelling fascination. Despite her defiantly critical attitude, Katherine was profoundly impressed; and she heard it whispered aboutthat, notwithstanding Blake's great popularity, his party's certaintyof success was becoming very much disturbed. 

Both Katherine and Bruce were fond of horseback riding--Doctor West'ssingle luxury, his saddle horse, was ever at Katherine's disposal--andat the end of one afternoon they met by chance out along the windingRiver Road, with its border of bowing willows and mottled sycamores, between whose browned foliage could be glimpsed long reaches of thebroad and polished river, steel-gray in the shadows, a flaming copperwhere the low sun poured over it its parting fire. Little by littleBruce began to talk of his ideals. Presently he was speaking with asimplicity and openness that he had not yet used with Katherine. Sheperceived, more clearly than before, that whereas he was dogmatic inhis ideas and brutally direct in their expression, he was a hot-souledidealist, overflowing with a passionate, even desperate, love ofdemocracy, which he feared was in danger of dying out in theland--quietly and painlessly suffocated by a narrowing oligarchy whichsought to blind the people to its rule by allowing them the exerciseof democracy's dead forms. 

His square, rude face, which she watched with a rising fascination, was no longer repellent. It had that compelling beauty, superior tomere tint and moulding of the flesh, which is born of great andglowing ideas. She saw that there was sweetness in his nature, thatbeneath his rough exterior was a violent, all-inclusive tenderness. 

Now and then she put in a word of discriminating approval, now andthen a word of well-reasoned dissent. 

"I believe you are even more radical than I am!" he exclaimed, lookingat her keenly. 

"A woman, if she is really radical, has got to be more radical than aman. She sees all the evils and dangers that he sees, and in additionshe suffers from injustices and restrictions from which man is whollyfree. "

He was too absorbed in the afterglow of what he had been saying totake in all the meanings implicated in her last phrase. 

"Do you know, " he said, as they neared the town, "you are the firstwoman I have met in Westville to whom one could talk about real thingsand who could talk back with real sense. "

A very sly and pat remark upon his inconsistency was at her tongue'stip. But she realized that he had spoken impulsively, unguardedly, andshe felt that it would be little short of sacrilege to be even gentlysarcastic after the exalted revelation he had made of himself. 

"Thank you, " she said quietly, and turned her face and smiled at thenow steel-blue reaches of the river. 

He dropped in several evenings to see her. When he was in anidealistic mood she was warmly responsive. When he was arbitrary andopinionated, she met him with chaffing and raillery, and at such timesshe was as elusive, as baffling, as exasperating as a sprite. Onoccasions when he rather insistently asked her plans and her progressin her father's case, she evaded him and held him at bay. She feltthat he admired her, but with a grudging, unwilling admiration thatleft his fundamental disapproval of her quite unshaken. 

The more she saw of this dogmatic dreamer, this erratic man of action, the more she liked him, the more she found really admirable in him. But mixed with her admiration was an alert and pugnacious fear, so bigwas he, so powerful, so violently hostile to all the principlesinvolved in her belief that the whole wide world of action should injustice lie as much open to woman to choose from as to man. 

Without cessation Katherine kept eyes and mind on Blake. She searchedout and pondered over the thousand possible details and ramificationshis conspiracy might have. No human plan was a perfect plan. Bypatiently watching and studying every point there was a chance thatshe might discover one detail, one slip, one oversight, that wouldgive her the key to the case. 

One of the thousand possibilities was that he had an active partner inhis scheme. Since no such partner was visible in the open, it waslikely that his associate was a man with whom Blake wished to haveseemingly no relations. Were this conjecture true, then naturally hewould meet this confederate in secret. She began to think upon allpossible means and places of holding secret conferences. Such ameeting might be held there in Westville in the dead of night. Itmight be held in any large city in which individuals might losethemselves--Indianapolis, Louisville, Cincinnati, Chicago. It might beheld at any appointed spot within the radius of an automobile journey. 

Katherine analyzed every possible place of this last possibility. Shebegan to watch, as she watched other possibilities, the comings andgoings of the Blake automobile. It occurred to her that, if anythingwere in this conjecture, the meeting would be held at night; and then, a little later, it occurred to her to make a certain regularobservation. The Blake garage and the West stable stood side by sideand opened into the same alley. Every evening while Blake's car wasbeing cleaned--if it had been in use during the day--Katherine wentout to say good night to her saddle horse, and as she was on friendlyterms with Blake's man she contrived, while exchanging a word withhim, to read the mileage record of the speedometer. This observationshe carried on with no higher hope of anything resulting from it thanfrom any of a score of other measures. It was merely one detail of herall-embracing vigilance. 

Every night she sat on watch--the evening's earlier half usually inthe rustic summer-house in the backyard, the latter part at herbedroom window. One night after most of Westville was in bed, herlong, patient vigil was rewarded by seeing the Blake automobile slipout with a single vague figure at the wheel and turn into the backstreets of the town. 

Hours passed, and still she sat wide-eyed at her window. It was nottill raucous old muzzains of roosters raised from the watch-towers oftheir various coops their concatenated prophecy of the dawn, that shesaw the machine return with its single passenger. The next morning, assoon as she saw Blake's man stirring about his work, she slipped outto her stable. Watching her chance, she got a glimpse of Blake'sspeedometer. Then she quickly slipped back to her room and sat therein excited thought. 

The evening before the mileage had read 1437; this morning the readingwas 1459. Blake, in his furtive midnight journey, had travelledtwenty-two miles. If he had slipped forth to meet a secret ally, thenevidently their place of meeting was half of twenty-two miles distant. Where was this rendezvous?

Almost instantly she thought of The Sycamores. That fitted therequirements exactly. It was eleven miles distant--Blake had a cabinthere--the place was deserted at this season of the year. Nothingcould be safer than for two men, coming in different vehicles, fromdifferent points perhaps, to meet at that retired spot at such aneyeless hour. 

Perhaps there was no confederate. Perhaps Blake's night trip wasnot to a secret conference. Perhaps The Sycamores was not therendezvous. But there was a chance that all three of these conjectureswere correct. And if so, there was a chance, --aye, more, aprobability--that there would be further midnight trysts. 

Bruce had fallen into the habit of dropping in occasionally for a fewminutes at the end of an evening's speaking to tell Katherine howmatters seemed to be progressing. When he called that night towardten he was surprised to be directed around to the summer-house. Hissurprise was all the more because the three months' drought had thatafternoon been broken, and the rain was now driving down in gusts andthere was a far rumbling of thunder that threatened a nearer and afiercer cannonading. 

Crouching beneath his umbrella, he made his way through the blacknessto the summer-house, in which he saw sitting a dim, solitary figure. 

"In mercy's name, what are you doing out here?" he demanded as heentered. 

"Watching the rain. I love to be out in a storm. " Every clap ofthunder sent a shiver through her. 

"You must go right into the house!" he commanded. "You'll get wet. I'll bet you're soaked already!"

"Oh, no. I have a raincoat on, " she answered calmly. "I'm going tostay and watch the storm a little longer. "

He expostulated, spoke movingly of colds and pneumonia. But she kepther seat and sweetly suggested that he avoid his vividly pictureddangers of a premature death by following his own advice. He jerked arustic chair up beside her, growled a bit in faint imitation of thethunder, then ran off into the wonted subject of the campaign. 

As the situation now stood he had a chance of winning, so successfulhad been his fight to turn back public opinion; and if only he had andcould use the evidence Katherine was seeking, an overwhelming victorywould be his beyond a doubt. He plainly was chafing at her delays, andas plainly made it evident that he was sceptical of her gaining proof. But she did not let herself be ruffled. She evaded all his questions, and when she spoke she spoke calmly and with good-nature. 

Presently, sounding dimly through a lull in the rising tumult of thenight, they heard the Court House clock strike eleven. Soon after, Katherine's ear, alert for a certain sound, caught a muffled throbbingthat was not distinguishable to Bruce from the other noises of thestorm. 

She sprang up. 

"You must go now--good night!" she said breathlessly, and darted outof the summer-house. 

"Wait! Where are you going?" he cried, and tried to seize her, but shewas gone. 

He stumbled amazedly after her vague figure, which was running throughthe grape-arbour swiftly toward the stable. The blackness, hisunfamiliarity with the way, made him half a minute behind Katherine inentering the barn. 

"Miss West!" he called. "Miss West!"

There was no answer and no sound within the stable. Just then a flashof lightning showed him that the rear door was open. As he felt hisway through this he heard Katherine say, "Whoa, Nelly! Whoa, Nelly!"and saw her swing into the saddle. 

He sprang forward and caught the bridle rein. 

"What are you going to do?" he cried. 

"Going out for a little gallop, " she answered with an excited laugh. 

"What?" A light broke in upon him. "You've been sitting there allevening in your riding habit! Your horse has been standing saddled andbridled in the stall! Tell me--where are you going?"

"For a little ride, I said. Now let loose my rein. "

"Why--why--" he gasped in amazement. Then he cried out fiercely: "Youshall not go! It's madness to go out in a storm like this!"

"Mr. Bruce, let go that rein this instant!" she said peremptorily. 

"I shall do nothing of the sort! I shall not let you make an insanefool of yourself!"

She bent downward. Though in the darkness he could not see her face, the tensity of her tone told him her eyes were flashing. 

"Mr. Bruce, " she said with slow emphasis, "if you do not loosen thatrein, this second, I give you my word I shall never see you, neverspeak to you again. "

"All right, but I shall not let you make a fool of yourself, " he criedwith fierce dominance. "You've got to yield to sense, even though Iuse force on you. "

She did not answer. Swiftly she reversed her riding crop and with allher strength brought its heavy end down upon his wrist. 

"Nelly!" she ordered sharply, and in the same instant struck thehorse. The animal lunged free from Bruce's benumbed grasp, and sprangforward into a gallop. 

"Good night!" she called back to him. 

He shouted a reply; his voice came to her faintly, wrathful anddefiant, but his words were whirled away upon the storm. 

CHAPTER XV

POLITICS MAKE STRANGE BED-FELLOWS

She quieted Nelly into a canter, made her way through the soundlysleeping back streets, and at length emerged from the city anddescended into the River Road, which was slightly shorter thanGrayson's Pike which led over the high back country to The Sycamores. She knew what Nelly could do, and she settled the mare down into thefastest pace she could hold for the eleven miles before her. 

Katherine was aquiver with suspense, one moment with hopefulexpectation, the next with fear that her deductions were all awry. Perhaps Blake had not gone out to meet a confederate. And if he had, perhaps The Sycamores was not the rendezvous. But if her deductionswere correct, who was this secret ally? Would she be able to approachthem near enough to discover his identity? And would she be able tolearn the exact outlines of the plot that was afoot? If so, what wouldit all prove to be?

Such questions and doubts galloped madly through her mind. The stormgrew momently in fierceness. The water and fury of three months ofwithheld storms were spending themselves upon the earth in one violentoutburst. The wind cracked her skirt like a whip-lash, and whined andsnarled and roared among the trees. The rain drove at her in maddenedsheets, found every opening in her raincoat, and soon she was as wetas though dropped in the river yonder. The night was as black as theinterior of a camera, save when--as by the opening of a snapshotshutter--an instantaneous view of the valley was fixed on Katherine'sstartled brain by the lightning ripping in fiery fissures down thesky. Then she saw the willows bending and whipping in the wind, sawthe gnarled old sycamores wrestling with knotted muscles, saw thebroad river writhing and tossing its swollen and yellow waters. Then, blackness again--and, like the closing click of this world-widecamera, there followed a world-shaking crash of thunder. 

Katherine would have been terrified but for the stimulant within. Shecrouched low upon her horse, held a close rein, petted Nelly, talkedto her and kept her going at her best--onward--onward--onward--throughthe covered wooden bridge that spanned Buck Creek--through the littleold village of Sleepy Eye--up Red Man's Ridge--and at last, battered, buffeted, half-drowned, she and Nelly drew up at the familiar stonegateway of The Sycamores. 

She dismounted, led Nelly in and tied her among the beeches away fromthe drive. Then cautiously, palpitantly, she groped her way in thedirection of the Blake cabin, avoiding the open lest the lightningshould betray her presence. At length she came to the edge of acleared space in which she knew the cabin stood. But she could seenothing. The cabin was just a cube of blackness imbedded in this greatblackness which was the night. She peered intently for a lightedwindow; she listened for the lesser thunder of a waiting automobile. But she could see nothing but the dark, hear nothing but the dash ofthe rain, the rumble of the thunder, the lashing and shrieking of thewind. 

Her heart sank. No one was here. Her guesses all were wrong. 

But she crept toward the house, following the drive. Suddenly, shealmost collided with a big, low object. She reached forth a hand. Itfell upon the tire of an automobile. She peered forward and seemed tosee another low shape. She went toward it and felt. It was a secondcar. 

She dashed back among the trees, and thus sheltered from the revealingglare of the lightning, almost choking with excitement, she began tocircle the house for signs which would locate in what room were themen within. She paused before each side and peered closely at it, buteach side in turn presented only blackness, till she came to the leeof the house. 

This, too, was dark for the first moment. Then in a lower window, which she knew to be the window of Blake's den, two dull red points oflight appeared--glowed--subsided--glowed again--then vanished. Aminute later one reappeared, then the other; and after the slow riseand fall and rise of the glow, once more went out. She stood rigid, wondering at the phenomenon. Then suddenly she realized that withinwere two lighted cigars. 

Bending low, she scurried across the open space and crouched besidethe window. Luckily it had been opened to let some fresh air into thelong-closed room. And luckily this was the lee of the house and thebeat of the storm sounded less loudly here, so that their voicesfloated dimly out to her. This lee was also a minor blessing, forKatherine's poor, wet, shivering body now had its first protectionfrom the storm. 

Tense, hardly breathing, with all five senses converged into hearing, she stood flattened against the wall and strained to catch theirevery word. One voice was plainly Blake's. The other had a faintlyfamiliar quality, though she could not place it. This second man hadevidently come late, for their conversation was of a preliminary, beating-around-the-bush character--about the fierceness of the storm, and the additional security it lent their meeting. 

Katherine searched her memory for the owner of this second voice. Shehad thought at first of Doctor Sherman, but this voice had not a tonein common with the young clergyman's clear, well-modulated baritone. This was a peculiar, bland, good-natured drawl. She had not heard itoften, but she had unmistakably heard it. As she ransacked her memoryit grew increasingly familiar, yet still eluded her. Then, all of asudden, she knew it, and she stood amazed. 

The second voice was the voice of Blind Charlie Peck. 

Katherine was well acquainted with the secret bi-partisan arrangementcommon in so many American cities, by which the righteous voter isdeluded into believing that there are two parties contending for theprivilege of giving him their best service, whereas in reality the twoare one, secretly allied because as a political trust they can mosteconomically and profitably despoil the people. Her first thought wasthat these ancient enemies, who for ten years had belaboured oneanother with such a realistic show of bitterness upon the politicalstage of Westville, had all along been friends and partners behindthe scenes. But of this idea she was presently disillusioned. 

"Well, Mr. Blake, let's get down to business, " Blind Charlie's voicefloated out to her. "You've had a day to think over my proposition. Now what have you got to say to it?"

There was a brief silence. When Blake did speak, Katherine coulddiscern in his repressed tone a keen aversion for his companion. 

"My position is the same as last night. What you say is all guesswork. There is nothing in it. "

Blind Charlie's voice was soft--purringly soft. 

"Then why didn't you ask me to go to hell, and stay at home instead ofcoming out here?"

There was again a short silence. 

"Come now, " the soft voice persuaded, "let's don't go over what we didlast night. I know I'm right. "

"I tell you you're only guessing, " Blake doggedly returned. "Youhaven't a scrap of proof. "

"I don't need proof, when I'm certain about a thing, " gently returnedthe voice of Blind Charlie. "I've been in politics for forty-eightyears--ever since I was nineteen, when I cast my first vote. I've gotsharpened up considerable in that time, and while I haven't been inon much in the last ten years, I can still smell a fat deal cleanacross the state. For the last three months I've been smelling, andsmelling it keener every day, that you've got a rich game going. "

"And so"--rather sarcastically--"you set Bruce on, to try to run thegame down!"

"Well, I would use a little different figure of speech, " returnedBlind Charlie smoothly. "When I've got a coon up a hollow tree I builda fire in the hollow to bring him down. Bruce is my fire. "

"And you think your coon is coming down?"

"I rather think he is. Don't you?"

"Well, I tell you he's not! For there's no coon up the tree!"

"I see I've got to state the thing to you again, " said Blind Charliepatiently, and so softly that Katherine had to strain her utmost toget his words. "When I grew sure you had a big deal on about thewater-works, I saw that the only way to force you to let me in was toput you in a fix where you would either have to split up or be indanger of losing the whole thing. So I nominated Bruce. He's one ofthe easiest I ever took in; but, I tell you, he is certainly one hellof a fighter! That's what I nominated him for. You know as well as Ido the way he's swinging the voters round. It beats anything I've everseen. If he keeps this up till election, and if I pull off a coupleof good tricks I've got all ready, he'll be a winner, sure! Andnow"--Blind Charlie's purring voice thrust out its claws--"either Iput Bruce in and smash your deal till it's not worth a damn, or elseyou come across!"

"There's nothing in it, I tell you!" declared Blake. 

"There's no use keeping up that pretence, " continued Blind Charlie. "You've had a day to think over my proposition. You know perfectlywell what your choice is between: a sure thing if you divide with me, the risk of nothing if you refuse. So let's waste no more time. Come, which is it?"

There was a long silence. 

"I understand, " commented Blind Charlie, with a soft sympathy thatKatherine knew was meant to bite like acid. "It's hard for arespectable man like you to mix up with Charlie Peck. But politicalbusiness makes strange bed-fellows, and unless you're willing to sleepwith almost anybody you'd better keep out of this kind of businessaltogether. But after all, " he added, "I guess it's better to share agood bed than to have no bed at all. "

"What do you want?" Blake asked huskily. 

"Only my share of the bed, " blandly returned Blind Charlie. 

"What's that, in plain words?"

"Not much. Only half of what you're going to make. "

Blake exploded. 

"Damn you, Peck, you're nothing but a damned blackmailer!"

"All right, I agree to that, " said Blind Charlie. Then he added in hissoft voice: "But if I'm a blackmailer in this affair, then please, Mr. Blake, what do you call yourself?"

"You--you----" To the crouching figure outside the window Blake seemedto be half-choking. But suddenly he exploded again. "I'll not do it, Peck! I'll not do it--never while God's earth stands!"

"I guess you will, Blake!" Blind Charlie's voice was no longer soft;it had a slow, grating, crunching sound. "Damn your soul, you've beenacting toward me with your holier-than-thou reformer's attitude forten years. D'you think I'm a man to swallow that quietly? D'you thinkI haven't had it in for you all those ten years? Why, there hasn'tbeen a minute that I haven't been looking for my chance. And at lastI've got it! I've not only got a line on this water-works business, but I've found out all about your pretty little deal with Adamsonduring the last months you were Lieutenant-Governor!"

"Adamson!" ejaculated Blake. 

"Yes, Adamson!" went on the harsh voice of Blind Charlie. "That hitsyou where you live, eh! You didn't know I had it, did you? Well, Ididn't till to-day--but I've got it now all right! There, my cards areall on the table. Look 'em over. I don't want Bruce elected any morethan you do; but either you do what I say, or by God I turn over toBruce all I know about the Adamson affair and all I know about thiswater-works deal! Now I give you just one minute to decide!"

Katherine breathlessly awaited the answer. A space passed. She heardBlind Charlie stand up. 

"Time's up! Good night--and to hell with you!"

"Wait! Wait!" Blake cried. 

"Then you accept?"

Blake's voice shook. "Before I answer, what do you want?"

"I've already told you. Half of what you get. "

"But I'm to get very little. "

"Very little!" Blind Charlie's voice was ironical; it had dropped itstone of crushing menace. "Very little! Now I figure that you'll getthe water-works for a third, or less, of their value. That'll give yousomething like half a million at the start-off, not to speak of theregular profits later on. Now as for me, " he concluded drily, "Iwouldn't call that such a very little sum that I'd kick it out of myway if I saw it lying in the road. "

"But no such sum is lying there. "

"No? Then what do you get?"

Blake did not answer. 

"Come, speak out!"

Blake's voice came with an effort. 

"I'm not doing this for myself. "

"Then who for?"

Blake hesitated, then again spoke with an effort. 

"The National Electric & Water Company. "

Blind Charlie swore in his surprise. 

"But I reckon you're not doing it for them for charity?"

"No. "

"Well, what for?"

Blake again remained silent. 

"Come, what for?" impatiently demanded Charlie. 

"For a seat in the Senate. "

"That's no good to me. What else?"

"Fifty thousand dollars. "

"The devil! Is that all?" ejaculated Blind Charlie. 

"Everything. "

Blind Charlie swore to himself for a moment. Then he fell into a deepsilence. 

"Well, what's the matter?" Blake presently inquired. 

"I was just wondering, " replied Blind Charlie, slowly, "if it wouldn'tbe better to call this business off between you and me. "

"Call it off?"

"Yes. I never imagined you were playing for such a little pile asfifty thousand. Since there's only fifty thousand in it"--his voicesuddenly rang out with vindictive triumph--"I was wondering if itwouldn't pay me better to use what I know to help elect Bruce. "

"Elect Bruce?" cried Blake in consternation. 

"Exactly. Show you up, and elect Bruce, " said Blind Charlie coolly. "To elect my mayor--there's more than fifty thousand for me in that. "

There was a dismayed silence on Blake's part. But after a moment herecovered himself, and this time it was his voice that had the note ofascendency. 

"You are forgetting one point, Mr. Peck, " said he. 

"Yes?"

"Bruce's election will not mean a cent to you. You will get nooffices. Moreover, the control of your party machinery will be sure topass from you to him. "

"You're right, " said the old man promptly. "See how quick I am toacknowledge the corn. However, after all, " he added philosophically, "what you're getting is really enough for two. You take thesenatorship, and I'll take the fifty thousand. What do you say tothat?"

"What about Bruce--if I accept?"

"Bruce? Bruce is just a fire to smoke the coon out. When the cooncomes down, I put out the fire. "

"You mean?"

"I mean that I'll see that Bruce don't get elected. "

"You'll make sure about that?"

"Oh, you just leave Bruce to me!" said Blind Charlie with grimconfidence. "And now, do you accept?"

Blake was silent. He still shrunk from this undesirable alliance. Outside, Katherine again breathlessly hung upon his answer. 

"What do you say?" demanded the old man sharply. "Do you accept? Or doI smash you?"

"I accept--of course. "

"And we'll see this thing through together?"

"Yes. "

"Then here you are. Let's shake on it. "

They talked on, dwelling on details of their partnership, Katherinemissing never a word. 

At length, their agreement completed, they left the room, andKatherine slipped from the window across into the trees and made suchhaste as she could through the night and the storm to where she hadleft her horse. She heard one car go slowly out the entrance of thegrove, its lamps dark that its visit might not be betrayed, and sheheard it turn cautiously into the back-country road. After a littlewhile she saw a glare shoot out before the car--its lamps had beenlighted--and she saw it skim rapidly away. Soon the second car creptout, took the high back-country pike, and repeated the same tactics. 

Then Katherine untied Nelly, mounted, and started slowly homewardalong the River Road. 

CHAPTER XVI

THROUGH THE STORM

Bowed low to shield herself against the ever fiercer buffets of thestorm, Katherine gave Nelly free rein to pick her own way at her ownpace through the blackness. The rain volleyed into her pitilessly, thewind sought furiously to wrest her from the saddle, the lightningcracked open the heavens into ever more fiery chasms, and the thunderrattled and rolled and reverberated as though a thousand battles werewaging in the valley. It was as if the earth's dissolution were athand--as if the long-gathered wrath of the Judgment Day were rendingthe earth asunder and hurling the fragments afar into the black abysmof eternity. 

But Katherine, though gasping and shivering, gave minor heed to thiselemental rage. Whatever terror she might have felt another time atsuch a storm, her brain had now small room for it. She was exultantlyfilled with the magnitude of her discovery. The water-works deal! TheNational Electric & Water Company! Bruce not a bona fide candidate atall, but only a pistol at Blake's head to make him stand and deliver!Blake and Blind Charlie--those two whole-hearted haters, whobelaboured each other so valiantly before the public--in a secret pactto rob that same dear public!

At the highest moments of her exultation it seemed that victory wasalready hers; that all that remained was to proclaim to Westville onthe morrow what she knew. But beneath all her exultation was a dimrealization that the victory itself was yet to be won. What she hadgained was only a fuller knowledge of who her enemies were, and whatwere their purposes. 

Her mind raced about her discovery, seeking how to use it as the basisof her own campaign. But the moment of an extensive and astoundingdiscovery is not the moment for the evolving of well-calculated plans;so the energies of her mind were spent on extravagant dreams or theleaping play of her jubilation. 

One decision, however, she did reach. That was concerning Bruce. Herfirst impulse was to go to him and tell him all, in triumphantrefutation of his ideas concerning woman in general, and her futilityin particular. But as she realized that she was not at the end of herfight, but only at a better-informed beginning, she saw that the dayof her triumph over him, if ever it was to come, had at least not yetarrived. As for admitting him into her full confidence, her woman'spride was still too strong for that. It held her to her determinationto tell him nothing. She was going to see this thing through withouthim. 

Moreover, she had another reason for silence. She feared, if she toldhim all, his impetuous nature might prompt him to make a prematuredisclosure of the information, and that would be disastrous to herfuture plans. But since he was vitally concerned in Blake's and Peck'sagreement, it was at least his due that he be warned; and so shedecided to tell him, without giving her source of information, thatBlind Charlie proposed to sell him out. 

Nelly's pace had slowed into a walk, and even then the gale at timesalmost swept the poor horse staggering from the road. The rain drovedown in ever denser sheets. The occasional flashes of lightning servedonly to emphasize the blackness. So dense was it, it seemed a solid. The world could not seem blacker to a toad in the heart of a stone. The instants of crackling fire showed Katherine the river, below herin the valley, leaping, surging, almost out of its banks--the trees, writhing and wrestling, here and there one jaggedly discrowned. Andonce, as she was crossing a little wooden bridge that spanned acreek, she saw that it was almost afloat--and for an instant ofterror she wished she had followed the higher back-country road takenby the two automobiles. 

She had reached the foot of Red Man's Ridge, and was winding along theriver's verge, when she thought she heard her name sound faintlythrough the storm. She stopped Nelly and sat in sudden stiffness, straining her ears. Again the voice sounded, this time nearer, andthere was no mistaking her name. 

"Miss West! Katherine!"

She sat rigid, almost choking. The next minute a shapeless figurealmost collided with Nelly. It eagerly caught the bridle-rein andcalled out huskily:

"Is that you, Miss West?"

She let out a startled cry. 

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"It's you! Thank God, I've found you!" cried the voice. 

"Arnold Bruce!" she ejaculated. 

He loosened the rein and moved to her side and put his hand upon theback of her saddle. 

"Thank God I've found you!" he repeated, with a strange quaver to hisvoice. 

"Arnold Bruce! What are you doing here?"

"Didn't you hear me shout after you, when you started, that I wascoming, too?"

"I heard your voice, but not what you said. "

"Do you think I would let you go out alone on a night like this?" hedemanded in his unstrung tone. "It's no night for a man to be out, much less a woman!"

"You mean--you followed me?"

"What else did you think I'd do?"

"And on foot?"

"If I had stopped to get a horse I'd have lost your direction. So Iran after you. "

They were moving on now, his hand upon the back of her saddle to linkthem together in the darkness. He had to lean close to her that theirvoices might be heard above the storm. 

"And you have run after me all this way?"

"Ran and walked. But I couldn't make much headway in thestorm--Calling out to you every few steps. I didn't know what mighthave happened to you. All kinds of pictures were in my mind. You mighthave been thrown and be lying hurt. In the darkness the horse mighthave wandered off the road and slipped with you into the river. Itwas--it was----" She felt the strong forearm that lay against her backquiver violently. "Oh, why did you do it!" he burst out. 

A strange, warm tingling crept through her. 

"I--I----" Something seemed to choke her. 

"Oh, why did you do it!" he repeated. 

Contrary to her determination of but a little while ago, an impulsesurged up in her to tell him all she had just learned, to tell him allher plans. She hung for a moment in indecision. Then her old attitude, her old determination, resumed its sway. 

"I had a suspicion that I might learn something about father's case, "she said. 

"It was foolishness!" he cried in fierce reproof, yet with the sameunnerved quaver in his voice. "You should have known you could findnothing on such a night as this!"

She felt half an impulse to retort sharply with the truth. But thethought of his stumbling all that way in the blackness subdued herrising impulse to triumph over him. So she made no reply at all. 

"You should never have come! If, when you started, you had stoppedlong enough for me to speak to you, I could have told you you wouldnot have found out anything. You did not, now did you?"

She still kept silent. 

"I knew you did not!" he cried in exasperated triumph. "Admit thetruth--you know you did not!"

"I did not learn everything I had hoped. "

"Don't be afraid to acknowledge the truth!"

"You remember what I said when you were first offered the nominationby Mr. Peck--to beware of him?"

"Yes. You were wrong. But let's not talk about that now!"

"I am certain now that I was right. I have the best of reasons forbelieving that Mr. Peck intends to sell you out. "

"What reasons?"

She hesitated a moment. 

"I cannot give them to you--now. But I tell you I am certain he isplanning treachery. "

"Your talk is wild. As wild as your ride out here to-night. "

"But I tell you----"

"Let's talk no more about it now, " he interrupted, brushing the matteraside. "It--it doesn't interest me now. "

There was a blinding glare of lightning, then an awful clap of thunderthat rattled in wild echoes down the valley. 

"Oh, why did you come?" he cried, pressing closer. "Why did you come?It's enough to kill a woman!"

"Hardly, " said she. 

"But you're wet through, " he protested. 

"And so are you. "

"Have my coat. " And he started to slip it off. 

"No. One more wet garment won't make me any drier. "

"Then put it over your head. To keep off this awful beat of the storm. I'll lead your horse. "

"No, thank you; I'm all right, " she said firmly, putting out a handand checking his motion to uncoat himself. "You've been walking. I'vebeen riding. You need it more than I do. " And then she added: "Did Ihurt you much?"

"Hurt me?"

"When I struck you with my crop. "

"That? I'd forgotten that. "

"I'm very sorry--if I hurt you. "

"It's nothing. I wish you'd take my coat. Bend lower down. " And movingforward, he so placed himself that his broad, strong body was apartial shield to her against the gale. 

This new concern for her, the like of which he had never beforeevinced the faintest symptoms, begot in her a strange, tingling, butblurred emotion. They moved on side by side, now without speech, gasping for the very breath that the gale sought to tear away fromtheir lips. The storm was momently gaining power and fury. Afterwardthe ancient weather-men of Calloway County were to say that in theirtime they had never seen its like. The lightning split the sky intoeven more fearsome fiery chasms, and in the moments of wildillumination they could see the road gullied by scores of imprompturivulets, could glimpse the broad river billowing and raging, thecattle huddling terrified in the pastures, the woods swaying andwrithing in deathlike grapple. The wind hurled by them in a thousandmoods and tones, all angry; a fine, high shrieking on its topmostnote--a hoarse snarl--a lull, as though the straining monster werepausing to catch its breath--then a roaring, sweeping onrush as ifbent on irresistible destruction. And on top of this glare, this rage, was the thousandfold crackle, rattle, rumble of the thunder. 

At such a time wild beasts, with hostility born in their blood, drawclose together. It was a storm to resolve, as it were, all complexshades of human feeling into their elementary colours--when fear andhate and love stand starkly forth, unqualified, unblended. Withoutbeing aware that she was observing, Katherine sensed that Bruce'sagitation was mounting with the storm. And as she felt his quiveringpresence beside her in the furious darkness, her own emotion surged upwith a wild and startling strength. 

A tree top snapped off just before them with its toy thunder. 

"Will this never stop!" gasped Bruce, huskily. "God, I wish I had yousafe home!"

The tremulous tensity in his voice set her heart to leaping with anunrestraint yet wilder. But she did not answer. 

Suddenly Nelly stumbled in a gully and Katherine pitched forward fromthe saddle. She would have fallen, had not a pair of strong armsclosed about her in mid-air. 

"Katherine--Katherine!" Bruce cried, distracted. Nelly righted herselfand Katherine regained her seat, but Bruce still kept his arm abouther. "Tell me--are you hurt?" he demanded. 

She felt the arms around her trembling with intensity. 

"No, " she said with a strange choking. 

"Oh, Katherine--Katherine!" he burst out. "If you only knew how I loveyou!"

What she felt could not crystallize itself into words. 

"Do you love me?" he asked huskily. 

Just then there was a flash of lightning. It showed her his upturnedface, appealing, tender, passion-wrought. A wild, exultant thrillswept through her. Without thinking, without speaking, her tinglingarm reached out, of its own volition as it were, and closed about hisneck, and she bent down and kissed him. 

"Katherine!" he breathed hoarsely. "Katherine!" And he crushed herconvulsively to him. 

She lay thrilled in his arms. .. . After a minute they moved on, his armabout her waist, her arm about his neck. Rain, wind, thunder wereforgotten. Forgotten were their theories of life. For that hour theman and woman in them were supremely happy. 

CHAPTER XVII

THE CUP OF BLISS

The next morning Katherine lay abed in that delicious lassitude whichis the compound of complete exhaustion and of a happiness that tinglesthrough every furthermost nerve. And as she lay there she thoughtdazedly of the miracle that had come to pass. She had not even guessedthat she was in love with Arnold Bruce. In fact, she had beenresisting her growing admiration for him, and the day before she couldhardly have told whether her liking was greater than her hostility. Then, suddenly, out there in the storm, all complex counter-feelingshad been swept side, and she had been revealed to herself. 

She was tremulously, tumultuously happy. She had had likings for menbefore, but she had never guessed that love was such a mighty, exultant thing as this. But, as she lay there, the thoughts that hadnever come to her in the storm out there on the River Road, slippedinto her mind. Into her exultant, fearful, dizzy happiness there crepta fear of the future. She clung with all her soul to the ideas of thelife she wished to live; she knew that he, in all sincerity, wasmilitantly opposed to those ideas. Difference in religious belief hadbrought bitterness, tragedy even, into the lives of many a pair oflovers. The difference in their case was no less firmly held to oneither side, and she realized that the day must come when their ideasmust clash, when they two must fight it out. Quivering with lovethough she was, she could but look forward to that inevitable day withfear. 

But there were too many other new matters tossing in her brain for herto dwell long upon this dread. At times she could but smilewhimsically at the perversity of love. The little god was doubtlesslaughing in impish glee at what he had brought about. She had alwaysthought in a vague way that she would sometime marry, but she hadalways regarded it as a matter of course that the man she would fallin love with would be one in thorough sympathy with her ideas and whowould help her realize her dream. And here she had fallen in love withthat dreamed-of man's exact antithesis!

And yet, as she thought of Arnold Bruce, she could not imagine herselfloving any other man in all the world. 

Love gave her a new cause for jubilation over her last night'sdiscovery. Victory, should she win it, and win it before election, hadnow an added value--it would help the man she loved. But as shethought over her discovery, she realized that while she might create ascandal with it, it was not sufficient evidence nor the particularevidence that she desired. Blake and Peck would both deny the meeting, and against Blake's denial her word would count for nothing, either incourt or before the people of Westville. And she could not be presentat another conference with two or three witnesses, for the pair hadlast night settled all matters and had agreed that it would beunnecessary to meet again. Her discovery, she perceived more clearlythan on the night before, was not so much evidence as the basis for amore enlightened and a more hopeful investigation. 

Another matter, one that had concerned her little while Bruce had heldbut a dubious place in her esteem, now flashed into her mind andassumed a large importance. The other party, as she knew, was usingBruce's friendship for her as a campaign argument against him; not onthe platform of course--it never gained that dignity--but in thestreet, and wherever the followers of the hostile camps engaged inpolitical skirmish. Its sharpest use was by good housewives, with whomsuffrage could be exercised solely by influencing their husbands'ballots. "What, vote for Mr. Bruce! Don't you know he's a friend ofthat woman lawyer? A man who can see anything in that Katherine Westis no fit man for mayor!"

All this talk, Katherine now realized, was in some degree injuringBruce's candidacy. With a sudden pain at the heart she now demanded ofherself, would it be fair to the man she loved to continue this openintimacy? Should not she, for his best interests, urge him, requirehim, to see her no more?

She was in the midst of this new problem, when her Aunt Rachel broughther in a telegram. She read it through, and on the instant the problemfled her mind. She lay and thought excitedly--hour after hour--and herold plans altered where they had been fixed, and took on definite formwhere previously they had been unsettled. 

The early afternoon found her in the office of old HosieHollingsworth. 

"What do you think of that?" she demanded, handing him the telegram. 

Old Hosie read it with a puzzled look. Then slowly he repeated italoud:

"'Bouncing boy arrived Tuesday morning. All doing well. John. '" Heraised his eyes to Katherine. "I'm always glad to see people lend thecensus a helping hand, " he drawled. "But who in Old Harry is John?"

"Mr. Henry Manning. The New York detective I told you about. "

"Eh? Then what----"

"It's a cipher telegram, " Katherine explained with an excited smile. "It means that he will arrive in Westville this afternoon, and willstay as long as I need him. "

"But what should he send that sort of a fool thing for?"

"Didn't I tell you that he and I are to have no apparent relationswhatever? An ordinary telegram, coming through that gossiping Mr. Gordon at the telegraph office, would have given us away. Now I'vecome to you to talk over with you some new plans for Mr. Manning. Butfirst I want to tell you something else. "

She briefly outlined what she had learned the night before; and then, without waiting to hear out his ejaculations, rapidly continued: "Itold Mr. Manning to come straight to you, on his arrival, to learn howmatters stood. All my communications to him, and his to me, are to bethrough you. Tell him everything, including about last night. "

"And what is he to do?"

"I was just coming to that. " Her brown eyes were gleaming withexcitement. "Here's my plan. It seems to me that if Blind Charlie Peckcould force his way into Mr. Blake's scheme and become a partner init, then Mr. Manning can, too. "

Old Hosie blinked. 

"Eh? Eh? How?"

"You are to tell Mr. Manning that he is Mr. Hartsell, or whoever hepleases, a real estate dealer from the East, and that his ostensiblebusiness in Westville is to invest in farm lands. Buying in run-downor undrained farms at a low price and putting them in good condition, that's a profitable business these days. Besides, since you are anagent for farm lands, that will explain his relations with you. Understand?"

"Yes. What next?"

"Secretly, he is to go around studying the water-works. Only not sosecretly that he won't be noticed. "

"But what's that for?"

"Buying farm land is only a blind to hide his real business, " she wenton rapidly. "His real business here is to look into the condition ofthe water-works with a view to buying them in. He is a private agentof Seymour & Burnett; you remember I am empowered to buy the systemfor Mr. Seymour. When Mr. Blake and Mr. Peck discover that a man issecretly examining the water-works--and they'll discover it all right;when they discover that this man is the agent of Mr. Seymour, with allthe Seymour millions behind him--and we'll see that they discoverthat, too--don't you see that when they make these discoveries thismay set them to thinking, and something may happen?"

"I don't just see it yet, " said Old Hosie slowly, "but it sounds likethere might be something mighty big there. "

"When Mr. Blake learns there is another secret buyer in the field, arival buyer ready and able to run the price up to three times what heexpects to pay--why, he'll see danger of his whole plan going to ruin. Won't his natural impulse be, rather than run such a risk, to try totake the new man in?--just as he took in Blind Charlie Peck?"

"I see! I see!" exclaimed Old Hosie. "By George, it's mighty clever!Then what next?"

"I can't see that far. But with Mr. Manning on the inside, our case iswon. "

Old Hosie leaned forward. 

"It's great! Great! If you're not above shaking hands with a mereman----"

"Now don't make fun of me, " she cried, gripping the bony old palm. 

"And while you're quietly turning this little trick, " he chuckled, "the Honourable Harrison Blake will be carefully watching every moveof Elijah Stone, the best hippopotamus in the sleuth business, and bedoing right smart of private snickering at the simplicity ofwomankind. "

She flushed, but added soberly:

"Of course it's only a plan, and it may not work at all. "

They talked the scheme over in detail. At length, shortly before thehour at which the afternoon express from the East was due to arrive, Katherine retired to her own office. Half an hour later, looking downfrom her window, she saw the old surrey of Mr. Huggins' draw up besidethe curb, in it a quietly dressed, middle-aged passenger who had theappearance of a solid man of affairs. He crossed the sidewalk and alittle later Katherine heard him enter Old Hosie's office on the floorbelow. After a time she saw the stranger go out and drive around theSquare to the Tippecanoe House, Peck's hotel, where Katherine haddirected that Mr. Manning be sent to facilitate his being detected bythe enemy. 

Her plan laid, Katherine saw there was little she could do but awaitdevelopments--and in the meantime to watch Blake, which Mr. Mannings'rôle would not permit his doing, and to watch and study DoctorSherman. Despite this new plan, and her hopes in it, she realized thatit was primarily a plan to defeat Blake's scheme against the city. Shestill considered Doctor Sherman the pivotal character in her father'scase; he was her father's accuser, the man who, she believed morestrongly every day, could clear him with a few explanatory words. Soshe determined to watch him none the less closely because of her newplan--to keep her eyes upon him for signs that might show hisrelations to Blake's scheme--to watch for signs of the breaking of hisnerve, and at the first sign to pounce accusingly upon him. 

When she reached home that afternoon she found Bruce awaiting her. Since morning, mixed with her palpitating love and her desire to seehim, there had been dread of this meeting. In the back of her mind thequestion had all day tormented her, should she, for his own interests, send him away? But sharper than this, sharper a hundredfold, was thefear lest the difference between their opinions should come up. 

But Bruce showed no inclination to approach this difference. Love wastoo new and near a thing for him to wander from the present. For thisdelay she was fervently grateful, and forgetful of all else she leanedback in a big old walnut chair and abandoned herself completely to herhappiness, which might perhaps be all too brief. They talked of athousand things--talk full of mutual confession: of their formerhostility, of what it was that had drawn their love to one another, oflast night out in the storm. The spirits of both ran high. Their joy, as first joy should be, was sparkling, effervescent. 

After a time she sat in silence for several moments, smilinghalf-tenderly, half-roguishly, into his rugged, square-hewed face, with its glinting glasses and its _chevaux de frise_ of bristlinghair. 

"Well, " he demanded, "what are you thinking about?"

"I was thinking what very bad eyes I have. "

"Bad eyes?"

"Yes. For up to yesterday I always considered you----But perhaps youare thin-skinned about some matters?"

"Me thin-skinned? I've got the epidermis of a crocodile!"

"Well, then--up to yesterday I always thought you--but you're sure youwon't mind?"

"I tell you I'm so thick-skinned that it meets in the middle!"

"Well, then, till yesterday I always thought you rather ugly. "

"Glory be! Eureka! Excelsior!"

"Then you don't mind?"

"Mind?" cried he. "Did you think that I thought I was pretty?"

"I didn't know, " she replied with her provoking, happy smile, "for menare such conceited creatures. "

"I'm not authorized to speak for the rest, but I'm certainlyconceited, " he returned promptly. "For I've always believed myself oneof the ugliest animals in the whole human menagerie. And at last mymerits are recognized. "

"But I said 'till yesterday', " she corrected. "Since then, somehow, your face seems to have changed. "

"Changed?"

"Yes. I think you are growing rather good-looking. " Behind her happyraillery was a tone of seriousness. 

"Good-looking? Me good-looking? And that's the way you dash my hopes!"

"Yes, sir. Good-looking. "

"Woman, you don't know what sorrow is in those words you spoke! Justto think, " he said mournfully, "that all my life I've fondled thebelief that when I was made God must have dropped the clay while itwas still wet. "

"I'm sorry----"

"Don't try to comfort me. The blow's too heavy. " He slowly shook hishead. "I never loved a dear gazelle----"

"Oh, I don't mean the usual sort of good-looking, " she consoled him. "But good-looking like an engine, or a crag, or a mountain. "

"Well, at any rate, " he said with solemn resignation, "it's somethingto know the particular type of beauty that I am. "

Suddenly they both burst into merry laughter. 

"But I'm really in earnest, " she protested. "For you really aregood-looking!"

He leaned forward, caught her two hands in his powerful grasp andalmost crushed his lips against them. 

"Perhaps it's just as well you don't mind my face, dear, " hehalf-whispered, "for, you know, you're going to see a lot of it. "

She flushed, and her whole being seemed to swim in happiness. They didnot speak for a time; and she sat gazing with warm, luminous eyes intohis rugged, determined face, now so soft, so tender. 

But suddenly her look became very grave, for the question of themorning had recurred to her. Should she not give him up?

"May I speak about something serious?" she asked with an effort. "Something very serious?"

"About anything in the world!" said he. 

"It's something I was thinking about this morning, and all day, " shesaid. "I'm afraid I haven't been very thoughtful of you. And I'mafraid you haven't been very thoughtful of yourself. "

"How?"

"We've been together quite often of late. "

"Not often enough!"

"But often enough to set people talking. "

"Let 'em talk!"

"But you must remember----"

"Let's stop their tongues, " he interrupted. 

"How?"

"By announcing our engagement. " He gripped her hands. "For we areengaged, aren't we?"

"I--I don't know, " she breathed. 

"Don't know?" He stared at her. "Why, you're white as a sheet! You'renot in earnest?"

"Yes. "

"What does this mean?"

"I--I had started to tell you. You must remember that I am anunpopular person, and that in my father I am representing an unpopularman. And you must remember that you are candidate for mayor. "

He had begun to get her drift. 

"Well?"

"Well, I am afraid our being together will lessen your chances. And Idon't want to do anything in the world that will injure you. "

"Then you think----"

"I think--I think"--she spoke with difficulty--"we should stop seeingeach other. "

"For my sake?"

"Yes. "

He bent nearer and looked her piercingly in the eyes. 

"But for your own sake?" he demanded. 

She did not speak. 

"But for your own sake?" he persisted. 

"For my sake--for my sake----" Half-choked, she broke off. 

"Honest now? Honest?"

She did not realize till that moment all it would mean to her to seehim no more. 

"For my own sake----" Suddenly her hands tightened about his and shepressed them to her face. "For my sake--never! never!"

"And do you think that I----" He gathered her into his strong arms. "Let them talk!" he breathed passionately against her cheek. "We'llwin the town in spite of it!"

CHAPTER XVIII

THE CANDIDATE AND THE TIGER

The town's talk continued, as Katherine knew it would. But though sheresented it in Bruce's behalf, it was of small importance in herrelationship with him compared with the difference in their opinions. She was in constant fear, every time he called, lest that differenceshould come up. But it did not on the next day, nor on the next. Hewas too full of love on the one hand, too full of his political fighton the other. The more she saw of him the more she loved him, sothoroughly fine, so deeply tender, was he--and the more did she dreadthat avoidless day when their ideas must come into collision, somasterful was he, so certain that he was right. 

On the fourth evening after their stormy ride she thought thecollision was at hand. 

"There is something serious I want to speak to you about, " he began, as they sat in the old-fashioned parlour. "You know what the storm hasdone to the city water. It has washed all the summer's accumulation offilth down into the streams that feed the reservoir, and since thefiltering plant is out of commission the water has been simplyabominable. The people are complaining louder than ever. Blake and therest of his crew are telling the public that this water is a sample ofwhat everything will be like if I'm elected. It's hurting me, andhurting me a lot. I don't blame the people so much for beinginfluenced by what Blake says, for, of course, they don't know what'sgoing on beneath the surface. But I've got to make some kind of areply, and a mighty strong one, too. Now here's where I want you tohelp me. "

"What can I do?" she asked. 

"If I could only tell the truth--what a regular knock-out of a replythat would be!" he exclaimed. "Some time ago you told me to wait--youexpected to have the proof a little later. Do you have any idea howsoon you will have your evidence?"

Again she felt the impulse to tell him all she knew and all her plans. But a medley of motives worked together to restrain her. There was themomentum of her old decision to keep silent. There was the knowledgethat, though he loved her as a woman, he still held her in low esteemas a lawyer. There was the instinct that what she knew, if saved, might in some way serve her when they two fought their battle. Andthere was the thrilling dream of waiting till she had all her evidencegathered and then bringing it triumphantly to him--and thus enable himthrough her to conquer. 

"I'm afraid I can't give you the proof for a while yet, " she replied. 

She saw that he was impatient at the delay, that he believed she woulddiscover nothing. She expected the outbreak that very instant. Sheexpected him to demand that she turn the case over to the Indianapolislawyer he had spoken to her about, who _would_ be able to make someprogress; to demand that she give up law altogether, and demand thatas his intended wife she give up all thought of an independentprofessional career. She nerved herself for the shock of battle. 

But it did not come. 

"All right, " he said. "I suppose I'll have to wait a little longer, then. "

He got up and paced the floor. 

"But I can't let Blake and his bunch go on saying those things withoutany kind of an answer from me. I've got to talk back, or get out ofthe fight!"

He continued pacing to and fro, irked by his predicament, frowningwith thought. Presently he paused before her. 

"Here is what I'm going to say, " he announced decisively. "SinceI cannot tell the whole truth, I'm going to tell a small partof the truth. I'm going to say that the condition of the wateris due to intentional mismanagement on the part of the presentadministration--which everybody knows is dominated by Blake. Blake'sparty, in order to prevent my election on a municipal ownershipplatform, in order to make sure of remaining in power, is purposelytrying to make municipal ownership fail. And I'm going to say this asoften, and as hard, as I can!"

In the days that followed he certainly did say it hard, both in the_Express_ and in his speeches. The charge had not been made publiclybefore, and, stated with Bruce's tremendous emphasis, it now created asensation. Everybody talked about it; it gave a yet further excitementto a most exciting campaign. There was vigorous denial from Blake, hisfellow candidates, and from the _Clarion_, which was supporting theBlake ticket. Again and again the _Clarion_ denounced Bruce's chargeas merely the words of a demagogue, a yellow journalist--merely theirresponsible and baseless calumny so common in campaigns. Nevertheless, it had the effect that Bruce intended. His stock took anew jump, and sentiment in his favour continued to grow at a rate thatmade him exult and that filled the enemy with concern. 

This inquietude penetrated the side office of the Tippecanoe House andsorely troubled the heart of Blind Charlie Peck. So, early oneafternoon, he appeared in the office of the editor of the _Express_. His reception was rather more pleasant than on the occasion of hisfirst visit, now over a month before; for, although Katherine hadrepeated her warning, Bruce had given it little credit. He did nothave much confidence in her woman's judgment. Besides, he wasreassured by the fact that Blind Charlie had, in every apparentparticular, adhered to his bargain to keep hands off. 

"Just wait a second, " Bruce said to his caller; and turning back tohis desk he hastily scribbled a headline over an item about a case offever down in River Court. This he sent down to the composing-room, and swung around to the old politician. "Well, now, what's up?"

"I just dropped around, " said Blind Charlie, with his good-naturedsmile, "to congratulate you on the campaign you're making. You'recertainly putting up a fine article of fight!"

"It does look as if we had a pretty fair chance of winning, " returnedBruce, confidently. 

"Great! Great!" said Blind Charlie heartily. "I certainly made nomistake when I picked you out as the one man that could win for us. "

"Thanks. I've done my best. And I'm going to keep it up. "

"That's right. I told you I looked on it as my last campaign. I'mpretty old, and my heart's not worth a darn. When I go, whether it'sup or down, I'll travel a lot easier for having first soaked Blakegood and proper. "

Bruce did not answer. He expected Blind Charlie to leave; in fact, hewanted him to go, for it lacked but a quarter of an hour of presstime. But instead of departing, Blind Charlie settled back in hischair, crossed his legs and leisurely began to cut off a comfortablemouthful from his plug of tobacco. 

"Yes, sir, it's a great fight, " he continued. "It doesn't seem that itcould be improved on. But a little idea has come to me that maypossibly help. It may not be any good at all, but I thought itwouldn't do any harm to drop in and suggest it to you. "

"I'll be glad to hear it, " returned Bruce. "But couldn't we talk itover, say in half an hour? It's close to press time, and I've got someproofs to look through--in fact the proof of an article on thatwater-works charge of mine. "

"Oh, I'll only take a minute or two, " said Blind Charlie. "And you maywant to make use of my idea in this afternoon's paper. "

"Well, go ahead. Only remember that at this hour the press is myboss. "

"Of course, of course, " said Blind Charlie amiably. "Well, here's tobusiness: Now I guess I've been through about as many elections as youare years old. It isn't what the people think in the middle of thecampaign that wins. It's what they think on election day. I've seenmany a horse that looked like he had the race on ice at the threequarters licked to a frazzle in the home stretch. Same withcandidates. Just now you look like a winner. What we want is to makesure that you'll still be out in front when you go under the wire. "

"Yes, yes, " said Bruce impatiently. "What's your plan?"

"You've got the people with you now, " the old man continued, "and wewant to make sure you don't lose 'em. This water-works charge of yourshas been a mighty good move. But I've had my ear to the ground. I'vehad it to the ground for nigh on fifty years, and if there's any kindof a political noise, you can bet I hear it. Now I've detected somesounds which tell me that your water-works talk is beginning to reactagainst you. "

"You don't say! I haven't noticed it. "

"Of course not; if you had, there'd be no use for me to come here andtell you, " returned Blind Charlie blandly. "That's where the value ofmy political ear comes in. Now in my time I've seen many a sensationreact and swamp the man that started it. That's what we've got to lookout for and guard against. "

"U'm! And what do you think we ought to do?"

Bruce was being taken in a little easier than Blind Charlie hadanticipated. 

"If I were you, " the old man continued persuasively, "I'd pitch thetune of the whole business in a little lower key. Let up on the bignoise you're making--cut out some of the violent statements. I thinkyou understand. Take my word for it, quieter tactics will be a lotmore effective at this stage of the game. You've got the people--youdon't want to scare them away. "

Bruce stared thoughtfully, and without suspicion, at theloose-skinned, smiling, old face. 

"U'm!" he said. "U'm!"

Blind Charlie waited patiently for two or three minutes. 

"Well, what do you think?" he asked. 

"You may be right, " Bruce slowly admitted. 

"There's no doubt of it, " the old politician pleasantly assured him. 

"And of course I'm much obliged. But I'm afraid I disagree with you. "

"Eh?" said Blind Charlie, with the least trace of alarm. 

Bruce's face tightened, and the flat of his hand came down upon hisdesk. 

"When you start a fight, the way to win is to keep on fighting. Andthat's what I'm going to do. "

Blind Charlie started forward in his chair. 

"See here, " he began, authoritatively. But in an instant his voicesoftened. "You'll be making a big mistake if you do that. Better trustto my older head in this. I want to win as much as you do, you know. "

"I admit you may be right, " said Bruce doggedly. "But I'm going tofight right straight ahead. "

"Come, now, listen to reason. "

"I've heard your reasons. And I'm going right on with the fight. "

Blind Charlie's face grew grim, but his voice was still gentle andinsinuating. 

"Oh, you are, are you? And give no attention to my advice?"

"I'm sorry, but that's the way I see it. "

"I'm sorry, but that's the way I don't see it. "

"I know; but I guess I'm running this campaign, " retorted Bruce alittle hotly. 

"And I guess the party chairman has some say-so, too. "

"I told you, when I accepted, that I would take the nomination withoutstrings, or I wouldn't take it at all. And you agreed. "

"I didn't agree to let you ruin the party. "

Bruce looked at him keenly, for the first time suspicious. Katherine'swarning echoed vaguely in his head. 

"See here, Charlie Peck, what the devil are you up to?"

"Better do as I say, " advised Peck. 

"I won't!"

"You won't, eh?" Blind Charlie's face had grown hard and dark withthreats. "If you don't, " he said, "I'm afraid the boys won't see yourname on the ticket on election day. "

Bruce sprang up. 

"Damn you! What do you mean by that?"

"I reckon you're not such an infant that you need that explained. "

"You're right; I'm not!" cried Bruce. "And so you threaten to sendword around to the boys to knife me on election day?"

"As I said, I guess I don't need to explain. "

"No, you don't, for I now see why you came here, " cried Bruce, hiswrath rising as he realized that he had been hoodwinked by BlindCharlie from the very first. "So there's a frame-up between you andBlake, and you're trying to sell me out and sell out the party! Youfirst tried to wheedle me into laying down--and when I wouldn't befooled, you turned to threats!"

"The question isn't what I came for, " snapped Blind Charlie. "Thequestion is, what are you going to do? Either you do as I say, or notone of the boys will vote for you. Now I want your answer. "

"You want my answer, do you? Why--why----" Bruce glared down at theold man in a fury. "Well, by God, you'll get my answer, and quick!"

He dropped down before his typewriter, ran in a sheet of paper, andfor a minute the keys clicked like mad. Then he jerked out the sheetof paper, scribbled a cabalistic instruction across its top, sprang tohis office door and let out a great roar of "Copy!"

He quickly faced about upon Blind Charlie. 

"Here's my answer. Listen:

 "'This afternoon Charlie Peck called at the office of the _Express_ and ordered its editor, who is candidate for mayor, to cease from his present aggressive campaign tactics. He threatened, in case the candidate refused, to order the "boys" to knife him at the polls. 

 "'The candidate refused. 

 "'Voters of Westville, do your votes belong to you, or do they belong to Charlie Peck?'

"That's my answer, Peck. It all goes in big, black type in a box inthe centre of the first page of this afternoon's paper. We'll seewhether the party will stand for your methods. " At this instant thegrimy young servitor of the press appeared. "Here, boy. Rush thatright down. "

"Hold on!" cried Peck in consternation. "You're not going to printthat thing?"

"Unless the end of the world happens along just about now, that'll beon the street in half an hour. " Bruce stepped to the door and openedit wide. "And, now, clear out! You and your votes can go plum tohell!"

"Damn you! But that piece will do you no good. I'll deny it!"

"Deny it--for God's sake do! Then everybody will know I'm telling thetruth. And let me warn you, Charlie Peck--I'm going to find out whatyour game is! I'm going to show you up! I'm going to wipe you clearoff the political map!"

Blind Charlie swore at him again as he passed out of the door. 

"We're not through with each other yet--remember that!"

"You bet we're not!" Bruce shouted after him. "And when we are, there'll not be enough of you left to know what's happened!"

CHAPTER XIX

WHEN GREEK MEETS GREEK

Two hours later Bruce was striding angrily up and down the Westparlour, telling Katherine all about it. 

She refrained from saying, "I told you so, " by either word or look. She was too wise for such a petty triumph. Besides, there wassomething in that afternoon's _Express_, which Bruce had handed herthat interested her far more than his wrathful recital of BlindCharlie's treachery; and although she was apparently giving Bruce herentire attention, and was in fact mechanically taking in his words, her mind was excitedly playing around this second piece of news. 

For Doctor Sherman, so said the _Express_, had that day suddenly leftWestville. He had been failing in health for many weeks and was onthe verge of a complete breakdown, the _Express_ sympatheticallyexplained, and at last had yielded to the importunities of hisworried congregation that he take a long vacation. He had gone tothe pine woods of the North, and to insure the unbroken rest he soimperatively required, to prevent the possibility of appealing lettersof inconsiderate parishioners or other cares from following him intohis isolation, he had, at his doctor's command, left no addressbehind. 

Katherine instantly knew that this vacation was a flight. Thesituation in Westville had grown daily more intense, and DoctorSherman had seemed to her to be under an ever-increasing strain. Blake, she was certain, had ordered the young clergyman to leave, fearing, if he remained, that his nerve might break and he mightconfess his true relation to her father's case. She realized that now, when Doctor Sherman was apparently weakening, was the psychologicaltime to besiege him with accusation and appeal; and while Bruce wasrehearsing his scene with Blind Charlie she was rapidly consideringmeans for seeking out Doctor Sherman and coming face to face with him. 

Her mind was brought back from its swift search by Bruce swinging achair up before her and sitting down. 

"But, Katherine--I'll show Peck!" he cried, fiercely, exultantly. "Hedoesn't know what a fight he's got ahead of him. This frees meentirely from him and his machine, and I'm going to beat him so badthat I'll drive him clear out of politics. "

She nodded. That was exactly what she was secretly striving to helphim do. 

He became more composed, and for a hesitant, silent moment he peeredthoughtfully into her eyes. 

"But, Katherine--this affair with Peck this afternoon shows me I am upagainst a mighty stiff proposition, " he said, speaking with theslowness of one who is shaping his statements with extreme care. "Ihave got to fight a lot harder than I thought I would have to threehours ago, when I thought I had Peck with me. To beat him, and beatBlake, I have got to have every possible weapon. Consequently, circumstances force me to speak of a matter that I wish I did not haveto talk about. " He reached forward and took her hand. "But, remember, dear, " he besought her tenderly, "that I don't want to hurt you. Remember that. "

She felt a sudden tightening about the heart. 

"Yes--what is it?" she asked quietly. 

"Remember, dear, that I don't want to hurt you, " he repeated. "It'sabout your father's case. You see how certain victory would be if weonly had the evidence to prove what we know?"

"I see. "

"I don't mean to say one single unkind word about your not havingmade--having made--more encouraging progress. " He pressed her hand;his tone was gentle and persuasive. "I'll confess I have secretly feltsome impatience, but I have not pressed the matter because--well, yousee that in this critical situation, with election so near, I'm forcedto speak about it now. "

"What would you like?" she said with an effort. 

"You see we cannot afford any more delays, any more risks. We have gotto have the quickest possible action. We have got to use every measurethat may get results. Now, dear, you would not object, would you, ifat this critical juncture, when every hour is so valuable, we were toput the whole matter in the hands of my Indianapolis lawyer friend Ispoke to you about?"

The gaze she held upon his continued steady, but she was pulsingwildly within and she had to swallow several times before she couldspeak. 

"You--you think he can do better than I can?"

"I do not want to say a single word that will reflect on you, dear. But we must admit the facts. You have had the case for over fourmonths, and we have no real evidence as yet. "

"And you think he can get it?"

"He's very shrewd, very experienced. He'll follow up every clue withdetectives. If any man can succeed in the short time that remains, hecan. "

"Then you--you think I can't succeed?"

"Come, dear, let's be reasonable!"

"But I think I can. "

"But, Katherine!" he expostulated. 

She felt what was coming. 

"I'm sure I can--if you will only trust me a little longer!" she saiddesperately. 

He dropped her hand. 

"You mean that, though I ask you to give it up, you want to continuethe case?"

She grew dizzy, his figure swam before her. 

"I--I think I do. "

"Why--why----" He broke off. "I can't tell you how surprised I am!" heexclaimed. "I have said nothing of late because I was certain that, ifI gave nature a little time in which to work, there would be no needto argue the matter with you. I was certain that, now that love hadentered your life, your deeper woman's instincts would assertthemselves and you would naturally desire to withdraw from the case. In fact, I was certain that your wish to practise law, your ambitionfor a career outside the home, would sink into insignificance--andthat you would have no desire other than to become a true woman of thehome, where I want my wife to be, where she belongs. Oh, come now, Katherine, " he added with a rush of his dominating confidence, takingher hand again, "you know that's just what you're going to do!"

She sat throbbing, choking. She realized that the long-feared battlewas now inevitably at hand. For the moment she did not know whethershe was going to yield or fight. Her love of him, her desire to pleasehim, her fear of what might be the consequence if she crossed him, allimpelled her toward surrender; her deep-seated, long-clung-toprinciples impelled her to make a stand for the life of her dreams. She was a tumult of counter instincts and emotions. But excited as shewas, she found herself looking on at herself in a curious detachment, palpitantly wondering which was going to win--the primitive woman inher, the product of thousands of generations of training to fit man'sdesire, or this other woman she contained, shaped by but a few briefyears, who had come ardently to believe that she had the right to bewhat she wanted to be, no matter what the man required. 

"Oh, come now, dear, " Bruce assured her confidently, yet halfchidingly, "you know you are going to give it all up and be just mywife!"

She gazed at his rugged, resolute face, smiling at her now with thatpeculiar forgiving tenderness that an older person bestows upon achild that is about to yield its childish whim. 

"There now, it's all settled, " he said, smoothing her hand. "And we'llsay no more about it. "

And then words forced their way up out of her turbulent indecision. 

"I'm afraid it isn't settled. "

His eyebrows rose in surprise. 

"No?"

"No. I want to be your wife, Arnold. But--but I can't give up theother. "

"What! You're in earnest?" he cried. 

"I am--with all my heart!"

He sank back and stared at her. If further answer were needed, herpale, set face gave it to him. His quick anger began to rise, but heforced it down. 

"That puts an entirely new face on the matter, " he said, trying tospeak calmly. "The question, instead of merely concerning the next fewweeks, concerns our whole lives. "

She tried to summon all her strength, all her faculties, for the shockof battle. 

"Just so, " she answered

"Then we must go over the matter very fully, " he said. His commandover himself grew more easy. He believed that what he had to do was tobe patient, and talk her out of her absurdity. "You must understand, of course, " he went on, smiling at her tenderly, "that I want tosupport my wife, and that I am able to support my wife. I want toprotect her--shield her--have her lean upon me. I want her to be thegoddess of my home. The goddess of my home, Katherine! That's what Iwant. You understand, dear, don't you?"

She saw that he confidently expected her to yield to his ideal andaccept it, and she now knew that she could never yield. She paused aspace before she spoke, in a sort of terror of what might be theconsequence of the next few moments. 

"I understand you, " she said, duplicating his tone of reason. "Butwhat shall I do in the home? I dislike housework. "

"There's no need of your doing it, " he promptly returned. "I canafford servants. "

"Then what shall I do in the home?" she repeated. 

"Take things easy. Enjoy yourself. "

"But I don't want to enjoy myself. I want to do things. I want towork. "

"Come, come, be reasonable, " he said, with his tolerant smile. "Youknow that's quite out of the question. "

"Since you are going to pay servants, " she persisted, "why should Iidle about the house? Why should not I, an able-bodied person, be outhelping in the world's work somehow--and also helping you to earn aliving?"

"Help me earn a living!" He flushed, but his resentment subsided. "When I asked you to marry me I implied in that question that I wasable and willing to support you. Really, Katherine, it's quite absurdfor you to talk about it. There is no financial necessity whatever foryou to work. "

"You mean, then, that I should not work because, in you, I have enoughto live upon?"

"Of course!"

"Do you know any man, any real man I mean, " she returned quickly, "whostops work in the vigour of his prime merely because he has enoughmoney to live upon? Would you give up your work to-morrow if some onewere willing to support you?"

"Now, don't be ridiculous, Katherine! That's quite a differentquestion. I'm a man, you know. "

"And work is a necessity for you?"

"Why, of course. "

"And you would not be happy without it?" she eagerly pursued. 

"Certainly not. "

"And you are right there! But what you don't seem to understand is, that I have the same need, the same love, for work that you have. Ifyou could only recognize, Arnold, that I have the same feelings inthis matter that you have, then you would understand me. I demand formyself the right that all men possess as a matter of course--theright to work!"

"If you must work, " he cried, a little exasperated, "why, of course, you can help in the housework. "

"But I also demand the right to choose my work. Why should I do workwhich I do not like, for which I have no aptitude, and which I shoulddo poorly, and give up work which interests me, for which I have beentrained, and for which I believe I have an aptitude?"

"But don't you realize, in doing it, if you are successful, you aretaking the bread out of a man's mouth?" he retorted. 

"Then every man who has a living income, and yet works, is also takingthe bread out of a man's mouth. But does a real man stop work becauseof that? Besides, if you use that argument, then in doing my ownhousework I'd be taking the bread out of a woman's mouth. "

"Why--why----" he stammered. His face began to redden. "We shouldn'tbelittle our love with this kind of talk. It's all so material, sosordid. "

"It's not sordid to me!" she cried, stretching out a hand to him. "Don't be angry, Arnold. Try to understand me--please do, please do. Work is a necessity of life to you. It is also a necessity of life tome. I'm fighting with you for the right to work. I'm fighting withyou for my life!"

"Then you place work, your career, above our happiness together?" hedemanded angrily. 

"Not at all, " she went on rapidly, pleadingly. "But I see no reasonwhy there should not be both. Our happiness should be all the greaterbecause of my work. I've studied myself, Arnold, and I know what Ineed. To be thoroughly happy, I need work; useful work, work thatinterests me. I tell you we'll be happier, and our happiness will lastlonger, if only you let me work. I know! I know!"

"Dream stuff! You're following a mere will-o'-the-wisp!"

"That's what women have been following in the past, " she returnedbreathlessly. "Look among your married friends. How many ideally happycouples can you count? Very, very few. And why are there so few? Onereason is, because the man finds, after the novelty is worn off, thathis wife is uninteresting, has nothing to talk about; and so his lovecools to a good-natured, passive tolerance of her. Most married men, when alone with their wives, sit in stupid silence. But see how thehusband livens up if a man joins them! This man has been out in theinteresting world. The wife has been cooped up at home. The man hassomething to talk about. The wife has not. Well, I am going to be outin the interesting world, doing something. I am going to havesomething to talk to my husband about. I am going to be interesting tohim, as interesting to him as any man. And I am going to try to holdhis love, Arnold, the love of his heart, the love of his head, to thevery end!"

He was exasperated by her persistence, but he still held himself incheck. 

"That sounds very plausible to you. But there is one thing in yourargument you forget. "

"And that?"

"We are grown-up people, you and I. I guess we can talk straight out. "

"Yes. Go on!"

He gazed at her very steadily for a moment. 

"There are such things as children, you know. "

She returned his steady look. 

"Of course, " she said quickly. "Every normal woman wants children. AndI should want them too. "

"There--that settles it, " he said with triumph. "You can't combinechildren and a profession. "

"But I can!" she cried. "And I should give the children the very bestpossible care, too! Of course there are successive periods in whichthe mother would have to give her whole attention to the children. Butif she lives till she is sixty-five the sum total of her forty orforty-five married years that she has to give up wholly to herchildren amounts to but a few years. There remains all the balance ofher life that she could give to other work. Do you realize howtremendously the world is changing, and how women's work is changingwith it?"

"Oh, let's don't mix in statistics, and history, and economics withour love!"

"But we've got to if our love is to last!" she cried. "We're living ina time when things are changing. We've got to consider the changes. And the greatest changes are, and are going to be, in woman's work. Upin our attic are my great-grandmother's wool carders, her spinningwheel, her loom, all sorts of things; she spun, wove, made all theclothing, did everything. These things are now done by professionalexperts; that sort of work has been taken away from woman. Now allthat's left for the woman to do in the home is to cook, clean, andcare for children. Life is still changing. We are still developing. Some time these things too will be done, and better done, byprofessional experts--though just how, or just when, I can't evenguess. Once there was a strong sentiment against the child being takenfrom the mother and being sent to school. Now most intelligent parentsare glad to put their children in charge of trained kindergartners atfour or five. And in the future some new institution, some new varietyof trained specialist, may develop that will take charge of the childfor a part of the day at an even earlier age. That's the way the worldis moving!"

"Thanks for your lecture on the Rise, Progress and Future ofCivilization, " he said ironically, trying to suppress himself. "Butinteresting as it was, it has nothing whatever to do with the case. We're not talking about civilization, and the universe, and evolution, and the fourth dimension, and who's got the button. We're talkingabout you and me. About you and me, and our love. "

"Yes, Arnold, about you and me and our love, " she cried eagerly. "Ispoke of these things only because they concern you and me and ourlove so very, very much. "

"Of all things for two lovers to talk about!" he exclaimed withmounting exasperation. 

"They are the things of all things! For our love, our life, hangs uponthem!"

"Well, anyhow, you haven't got these new institutions, these newexperts, " he retorted, brushing the whole matter aside. "You're livingto-day, not in the millennium!"

"I know, I know. In the meantime, life for us women is in a stage oftransition. Until these better forms develop we are going to have ahard time. It will be difficult for me to manage, I know. But I'mcertain I can manage it. "

He stood up. His face was very red, and he swallowed once or twicebefore the words seemed able to come out. 

"I'm surprised, Katherine--surprised!--that you should be sopersistent in this nonsense. What you say is all against nature. Itwon't work. "

"Perhaps not. But at least you'll let me try! That's all I ask ofyou--that you let me try!"

"It would be weak in me, wrong in me, to yield. "

"Then you're not willing to give me a chance?"

He shook his head. 

She rose and moved before him. 

"But, Arnold, do you realize what you are doing?" she cried withdesperate passion. "Do you realize what it is I'm asking you for?Work, interesting work--that's what I need to make me happy, to makeyou happy! Without it, I shall be miserable, and you will be miserablein having a miserable wife about you--and all our years together willbe years of misery. So you see what a lot I'm fighting for: work, development, happiness!--the happiness of all our married years!"

"That's only a delusion. For your sake, and my sake, I've got to standfirm. "

"Then you will not let me?"

"I will not. "

She stared palely at his square, adamantine face. 

"Arnold!" she breathed. "Arnold!--do you know what you're trying todo?"

"I am trying to save you from yourself!"

"You're trying to break my will across yours, " she cried a littlewildly. "You're trying to crush me into the iron mould of your idea ofa woman. You're trying to kill me--yes, to kill me. "

"I am trying to save you!" he repeated, his temper breaking its frailleash. "Your ideas are all wrong--absurd--insane!"

"Please don't be angry, Arnold!" she pleaded. 

"How can I help it, when you won't listen to reason! When you are soperversely obstinate!"

"I'm not obstinate, " she cried breathlessly, holding one of his handstightly in both her own. "I'm just trying to cling as hard as I can tolife--to our happiness. Please give me a chance, Arnold! Please, please!"

"Confound such obstinate wrong-headedness!" he exploded. "No, I tellyou! No! And that settles it!"

She shrank back. 

"Oh!" she cried. Her breast began to rise and fall tumultuously, andher cheeks slowly to redden. "Oh!" she cried again. Then her wordsleaped hotly out: "Oh, you bigot!"

"If to stand by what I know is right, and to save you from making afool of yourself, is to be a bigot--then I'm a bigot all right, and Ithank the God that made me one!"

"And you think you are going to save me from myself?" she demanded. 

He stepped nearer, and towering over her, he took hold of hershoulders in a powerful grasp and looked down upon her dominantly. 

"I know I am! I am going to make you exactly what I want you to be!"

Her eyes flamed back up into his. 

"Because you are the stronger?"

"Because I am the stronger--and because I am right, " he returnedgrimly. 

"I admit that you are the superior brute, " she said with fiercepassion. "But you will never break me to your wishes!"

"And I tell you I will!"

"And I tell you you will not!"

There was a strange and new fire in her eyes. 

"What do you mean?" he asked. 

"I mean this, " she returned, and the hands that gripped her shouldersfelt her tremble through all her body. "I should not expect you tomarry a woman who was so unreasonable as to demand that you, for hersake, should give up your loved career. And, for my part, I shallnever marry a man so unreasonable as to make the same demand of me. "

He fell back a pace. 

"You mean----"

"Was I not plain enough? I mean that you will never have the chance tocrush me into your iron mould, for I will never marry you. "

"What!" And then: "So I'm fired, am I?" he grated out. 

"Yes, for you're as narrow and as conventional as the rest of men, "she rushed on hotly. "You never say a word so long as a woman's workis unpleasant! It's all right for her to scrub, and wash dishes, andwear her life away in factories. But as soon as she wants to do anywork that is pleasant and interesting and that will gain herrecognition, you cry out that she's unwomanly, unsexed, that she'sflying in the face of God! Oh, you are perfectly willing that woman, on the one hand, should be a drudge, or on the other the pampered petof your one-woman harem. But I shall be neither, I tell you. Never!Never! Never!"

They stared at one another, trembling with passion. 

"And you, " he said with all the fierce irony of his soul, "and you, Isuppose, will now go ahead and clear your father, expose Blake, andperform all those other wonders you've talked so big about!"

"That's just what I am going to do!" she cried defiantly. 

"And that's just what you are not!" he blazed back. "I may haveadmired the woman in you--but, for those things, you have not thesmallest atom of ability. Your father's trial, your failure to getevidence--hasn't that shown you? You are going to be a failure--afizzle--a fiasco! Did you hear that? A pitiable, miserable, humiliatedfiasco! And time will prove it!"

"We'll see what time will prove!" And she swept furiously past him outof the room. 

CHAPTER XX

A SPECTRE COMES TO TOWN

For many an hour Katherine's wrath continued high, and she repeated, with clinched hands, all her invectives against the bigotry of Bruce. He was a bully--a boor--a brute--a tyrant. He considered himself thesuperman. And in pitiable truth he was only a moral coward--for hisreal reason in opposing her had been that he was afraid to haveWestville say that his wife worked. And he had insulted her, for hisparting words to her had been a jeering statement that she had noability, only a certain charm of sex. How, oh, how, had she everimagined that they two might possibly share a happy life together?

But after a season her wrath began to subside, and she began to seethat after all Bruce was no very different man from the Bruce she hadloved the last few weeks. He had been thoroughly consistent withhimself. She had known that he was cocksure and domineering. She hadforeseen that the chances were at least equal that he would take theposition he had. She had foreseen and feared this very issue. Hisvirtues were just as big as on yesterday, when she and he had thoughtof marriage, and his faults were no greater. And she realized, afterthe first passion of their battle had spent its force, that she stillloved him. 

In the long hours of the night a pang of emptiness, of vast, irretrievable loss, possessed her. She and Love had touched each otherfor a space--then had flung violently apart, and were speeding each intheir eternally separate direction. Life for her might be rich andfull of honour and achievement, but as she looked forward into thelong procession of years, she saw that life was going to have itsdreariness, its vacancies, its dull, unending aches. It was going tobe such a very, very different business from that life of work andlove and home and mutual aid she had daringly dreamed of during thetwo weeks she and Bruce had been lovers. 

But she did not regret her decision. She did not falter. Herresentment of Bruce's attitude stiffened the backbone of her purpose. She was going straight ahead, bear the bitterness, and live the lifeshe had planned as best she could. 

But there quickly came other matters to share her mind with a lostlove and a broken dream. First was the uproar created by Bruce'sdefiant announcement in the _Express_ of Blind Charlie's threatenedtreachery. That sensation reigned for a day or two, then was almostforgotten in a greater. This second sensation made its initialappearance quite unobtrusively; it had a bare dozen lines down in acorner of the same issue of the _Express_ that had contained Bruce'sdefiance and Doctor Sherman's departure. The substance of the item wasthat two cases of illness had been reported from the negro quarter inRiver Court, and that the doctors said the symptoms were similar tothose of typhoid fever. 

Those two cases of fever in that old frame tenement up a narrow, stenchy alley were the quiet opening of a new act in the drama thatwas played that year in Westville. The next day a dozen cases werereported, and now the doctors unhesitatingly pronounced them typhoid. The number mounted rapidly. Soon there were a hundred. Soon there wasan epidemic. And the Spectre showed no deference to rank. It not onlystalked into the tenements of River Court and Railroad Alley--and laidits felling finger on starveling children and drink-shattered men--Itvisited the large and airy homes on Elm and Maple Streets and WabashAvenue, where those of wealth and place were congregated. 

In Westville was the Reign of Terror. Haggard doctors were ever on thego, snatching a bite or a moment's sleep when chance allowed. Tillthen, modern history had been reckoned in Westville from the town'sinvasion by factories, or from that more distant time when lightninghad struck the Court House. But those milestones of time are to-dayforgotten. Local history is now dated, and will be for many a decade, from the "Days of Fever" and the related events which marked thatepoch. 

In the early days of the epidemic Katherine heard one morning thatElsie Sherman had just been stricken. She had seen little of Elsieduring the last few weeks; the strain of their relation was too greatto permit the old pleasure in one another's company; but at this newsshe hastened to Elsie's bedside. Her arrival was a God-send to theworn and hurried Doctor Woods, who had just been called in. Shetelegraphed to Indianapolis for a nurse; she telegraphed to a sisterof Doctor Sherman to come; and she herself undertook the care of Elsieuntil the nurse should arrive. 

"What do you think of her case, Doctor?" she asked anxiously whenDoctor Woods dropped in again later in the day. 

He shook his head. 

"Mrs. Sherman is very frail. "

"Then you think----"

"I'm afraid it will be a hard fight. I think we'd better send for herhusband. "

Despite her sympathy for Elsie, Katherine thrilled with thepossibility suggested by the doctor's words. Here was a situation thatshould bring Doctor Sherman out of his hiding, if anything could bringhim. Once home, and unnerved by the sight of his wife precariouslybalanced between life and death, she was certain that he would breakdown and confess whatever he might know. 

She asked Elsie for her husband's whereabouts, but Elsie answered thatshe had had letters but that he had never given an address. Katherineat once determined to see Blake, and demand to know where DoctorSherman was; and after the nurse arrived on an afternoon train, sheset out for Blake's office. 

But Blake was out, and his return was not expected for an hour. Tofill in the time, Katherine paid a visit to her father in the jail. She told him of Elsie's illness, and told at greater length than shehad yet had chance to do about the epidemic. In his turn he talked toher about the fever's causes; and when she left the jail and returnedto Blake's office an idea far greater than merely asking DoctorSherman's whereabouts was in her mind. 

This time she was told that Blake was in, but could see no one. Undeterred by this statement, Katherine walked quickly past thestenographer and straight for his private door, which she quickly andquietly opened and closed. 

Blake was sitting at his desk, his head bowed forward in one hand. Hewas so deep in thought, and she had entered so quietly, that he hadnot heard her. She crossed to his desk, stood opposite him, and for amoment gazed down upon his head. 

"Mr. Blake, " she remarked at length. 

He started up. 

"You here!" he ejaculated. 

"Yes. I came to talk to you. "

He did not speak at once, but stood staring a little wildly at her. She had not spoken to him since the day of her father's trial, norseen him save at a distance. She was now startled at the change thiscloser view revealed to her. His eyes were sunken and ringed withpurple, his face seemed worn and thin, and had taken on a tinge ofyellowish-green. 

"I left orders that I could see no one, " he said, trying to speaksharply. 

"I know, " she answered quietly. "But you'll see me. "

For an instant he hesitated. 

"Very well--sit down, " he said, resuming his chair. "Now what is ityou wish?"

She seated herself and leaned across the desk toward him. 

"I wish to talk to you about the fever, " she said with her formercomposure, and looking him very steadily in the eyes. "I suppose youknow what caused it?"

"I am no doctor. I do not. "

"Then let me tell you. My father has just told me that there must havebeen a case of typhoid during the summer somewhere back in thedrainage area of the water-system. That recent big storm carried thesummer's accumulation of germ-laden filth down into the streams. Andsince the city was unguarded by a filter, those germs were swept intothe water-mains, we drank them, and the epidemic----"

"That filter was useless--a complete failure!" Blake broke in ratherhuskily. 

"You know, Mr. Blake, and I know, " she returned, "that that filter hasbeen, and still is, in excellent condition. And you know, and I know, that if it had been in operation, purifying the water, there mightpossibly have been a few cases of typhoid, but there would never havebeen this epidemic. That's the God's truth, and you know it!"

He swallowed, but did not answer her. 

"I suppose, " she pursued in her steady tone, "you realize who isresponsible for all these scores of sick?"

"If what you say is true, then your father is guilty, for buildingsuch a filter. "

"You know better. You know that the guilty man is yourself. "

His face grew more yellowish-green. 

"It's not so! No one is more appalled by this disaster than I am!"

"I know you are appalled by the outcome. You did not plan to murdercitizens. You only planned to defraud the city. But this epidemic isthe direct consequence of your scheme. Every person who is now in asick bed, you put that person there. Every person who may later go tohis grave, you will have sent that person there. "

Her steady voice grew more accusing. "What does your conscience say toyou? And what do you think the people will say to you, to the greatpublic-spirited Mr. Blake, when they learn that you, prompted by thedesire for money and power, have tried to rob the city and havestricken hundreds with sickness?"

His yellowish face contorted most horribly, but he did not answer. 

"I see that your conscience has been asking you those same questions, "Katherine pursued. "It is something, at least, that your conscience isnot dead. Those are not pleasant questions to have asked one, arethey?"

Again his face twisted, but he seemed to gather hold of himself. 

"You are as crazy as ever--that's all rot!" he said huskily, with adenying sweep of a clinched hand. "But what do you want?"

"Three things. First, that you have the filter put back in commission. Let's at least do what we can to prevent any more danger from thatsource. "

"The filter is useless. Besides, I am no official, and have nothing todo with it. "

"It is in perfect condition, and you have everything to do with it, "she returned steadily. 

He swallowed. "I'll suggest it to the mayor. "

"Very well; that is settled. To the next point. Have you heard thatMrs. Sherman is sick?"

"Yes. "

"She wants her husband. "

"Well?"

"My second demand is to know where you have hidden Doctor Sherman. "

"Doctor Sherman? I have nothing to do with Doctor Sherman!"

"You also have everything to do with Doctor Sherman, " she returnedsteadily. "He is one of the instruments of your plot. You feared thathe would break down and confess, and so you sent him out of the way. Where is he?"

Again his face worked spasmodically. "I tell you once more I havenothing whatever to do with Doctor Sherman! Now I hope that's all. Iam tired of this. I have other matters to consider. Good day. "

"No, it is not all. For there is my third demand. And that is the mostimportant of the three. But perhaps I should not say demand. What Imake you is an offer. "

"An offer?" he exclaimed. 

She did not reply to him directly. She leaned a little farther acrosshis desk and looked at him with an even greater intentness. 

"I do not need to ask you to pause and think upon all the evil youhave done the town, " she said slowly. "For you have thought. You werethinking at the moment I came in. I can see that you are shaken withhorror at the unforeseen results of your scheme. I have come to you totake sides with your conscience; to join it in asking you, urging you, to draw back and set things as nearly right as you can. That is mydemand, my offer, my plea--call it what you will. "

He had been gazing at her with wide fixed eyes. When he spoke, hisvoice was dry, mechanical. 

"Set things right? How?"

"Come forward, confess, and straighten out the situation of your ownaccord. Westville is in a terrible condition. If you act at once, youcan at least do something to relieve it. "

"By setting things right, as you call it, you of course include theclearing of your father?"

"The clearing of my father, of course. And let me say to you, Mr. Blake--and for this moment I am speaking as your friend--that it willbe better for you to clear this whole matter up voluntarily, at once, than to be exposed later, as you certainly will be. To clear thismatter at once may have the result of simplifying the fight againstthe epidemic--it may save many lives. That is what I am thinking offirst of all just now. "

"You mean to say, then, that it is either confess or be exposed?"

"There is no use in my beating about the bush with you, " she repliedin her same steady tone. "For I know that you know that I am afteryou. "

He did not speak at once. He sat gazing fixedly at her, with twitchingface. She met his gaze without blinking, breathlessly awaiting hisreply. 

Suddenly a tremor ran through him and his face set with desperatedecision. 

"Yes, I know you are after me! I know you are having mefollowed--spied upon!" There was a biting, contemptuous edge to histone. "Even if I were guilty, do you think I would be afraid ofexposure from you? Oh, I know the man you have sleuthing about on mytrail. Elijah Stone! And I once thought you were a clever girl!"

"You refuse, then?" she said slowly. 

"I do! And I defy you! If your accusations against me are true, go outand proclaim them to the city. I'm willing to stand for whateverhappens!"

She regarded his flushed, defiant face. She perceived clearly that shehad failed, that it was useless to try further. 

"Very well, " she said slowly. "But I want you to remember in thefuture that I have given you this chance; that I have given you yourchoice, and you have chosen. "

"And I tell you again that I defy you!"

"You are a more hardened man, or a more desperate man, than Ithought, " said she. 

He did not reply upon the instant, but sat gazing into her searchingeyes. Before he could speak, the telephone at his elbow began to ring. He picked it up. 

"Hello! Yes, this is Mr. Blake. .. . Her temperature is the same, yousay?. .. No, I have not had an answer yet. I expect a telegram anyminute. I'll let you know as soon as it comes. Good-by. "

"Is some one sick?" Katherine asked, as he hung up the receiver. 

"My mother, " he returned briefly, his recent defiance all gone. 

Katherine, too, for the moment, forgot their conflict. 

"I did not know it. There are so many cases, you know. Who isattending her?"

"Doctor Hunt, temporarily, " he answered. "But these Westvilledoctors are all amateurs in serious cases. I've telegraphedfor a specialist--the best man I could hear of--Doctor Brenholtzof Chicago. "

His defiance suddenly returned. 

"If I have seemed to you worn, unnerved, now you know the real cause!"he said. 

"So, " she remarked slowly, "the disaster you have brought on Westvillehas struck your own home!"

His face twitched convulsively. 

"I believe we have finished our conversation. Good afternoon. "

Katherine rose. 

"And if she dies, you know who will have killed her. "

He sprang up. 

"Go! Go!" he cried. 

But she remained in her tracks, looking him steadily in the eyes. While they stood so, the stenographer entered and handed him atelegram. He tore it open, glanced it through, and stood staring at itin a kind of stupor. 

"My God!" he breathed. 

He tore the yellow sheet across, dropped the pieces in thewaste-basket and began to pace his room, on his face a wild, dazedlook. He seemed to have forgotten Katherine's presence. But a turnbrought her into his vision. He stopped short. 

"You still here?"

"I was waiting to hear if Doctor Brenholtz was coming, " she said. 

He stared at her a moment. Then he crossed to his desk, took the twofragments of the telegram from his waste-basket and held them out toher. 

"There is what he says. "

She took the telegram and read:

 "No use my coming. Best man on typhoid in West lives in your own town. See Dr. David West. "

Katherine laid down the yellow pieces and raised her eyes to Blake'swhite, strained face. The two gazed at each other for a long moment. 

"Well?" he said huskily. 

"Well?" she quietly returned. 

"Do you think I can get him?"

"How can you get a man who is serving a sentence in jail?"

"If I--if I----" He could not get the words out. 

"Yes. If you confess--clear him--get him out of jail--of course hewill treat the case. "

"I didn't mean that! God!" he cried, "is confession of a thing I neverdid the fee you exact for saving a life?"

"What, you still hold out?"

"I'm not guilty! I tell you, I'm not guilty!"

"Then you'll not confess?"

"Never! Never!"

"Not even to save your mother?"

"She's sick--very sick. But she's not going to die--I'll not let herdie! Your father does not have to be cleared to get out of jail. Inthis emergency I can arrange to get him out for a time on parole. Whatdo you say?"

She gazed at the desperate, wildly expectant figure. A little shiverran through her. 

"What do you say?" he repeated. 

"There can be but one answer, " she replied. "My father is too big aman to demand any price for his medical skill--even the restoration ofhis honest name by the man who stole it. Parole him, and he will goinstantly to Mrs. Blake. "

He dropped into his chair and seized his telephone. 

"Central, give me six-o-four--quick!" There was a moment of waiting. "This you, Judge Kellog?. .. This is Harrison Blake. I want you toarrange the proper papers for the immediate parole of Doctor West. I'll be responsible for everything. Am coming right over and willexplain. "

He fairly threw the receiver back upon its hook. "Your father will befree in an hour, " he cried. And without waiting for a reply, he seizedhis hat and hurried out. 

CHAPTER XXI

BRUCE TO THE FRONT

Katherine came down from Blake's office with many thoughts surgingthrough her brain: Of her father's release--of Blake's obduracy--ofhis mother's illness; but at the forefront of them all, becausedemanding immediate action, was the need of finding Doctor Sherman. 

As she stepped forth from the stairway, she saw Arnold Bruce stridingalong the Square in her direction. There was a sudden leaping of herheart, a choking at her throat. But they passed each other with theshort cold nod which had been their manner of greeting during the lastfew days when they had chanced to meet. 

The next instant a sudden impulse seized her, and she turned about. 

"Mr. Bruce, " she called after him. 

He came back to her. His face was rather pale, but was doggedlyresolute. Her look was not very different from his. 

"Yes, Miss West?" said he. 

For a moment it was hard for her to speak. No word, only that frigidnod, had passed between them since their quarrel. 

"I want to ask you something--and tell you something, " she saidcoldly. 

"I am at your service, " said he. 

"We cannot talk here. Suppose we cross into the Court House yard?"

In silence he fell into step beside her. They did not speak until theywere in the yard where passers-by could not overhear them. 

"You know of Mrs. Sherman's illness?" she began in a distant, formaltone. 

"Yes. "

"It promises to be serious. We must get her husband home if possible. But no one has his address. An idea for reaching him has been vaguelyin my head. It may not be good, but it now seems the only way. "

"Do you mind telling me what it is?"

"Doctor Sherman is somewhere in the pine woods of the North. What Ithought about doing was to order some Chicago advertising agency toinsert notices in scores of small dailies and weeklies up North, announcing to Doctor Sherman his wife's illness and urging him to comehome. My hope is that one of the papers may penetrate whatever remotespot he may be in and the notice reach his eyes. What I want to askyou is the name of an agency. "

"Black & Graves are your people, " said he. 

"Also I want to know how to go about it to get prompt action on theirpart. "

"Write out the notice and send it to them with your instructions. Andsince they won't know you, better enclose a draft or money order onaccount. No, don't bother about the money; you won't know how much tosend. I know Phil Black, and I'll write him to-day guaranteeing theaccount. "

"Thank you, " she said. 

"You're perfectly welcome, " said he with his cold politeness. "Isthere anything else I can do?"

"That's all about that. But I have something to tell you--a suggestionto make for your campaign, if you will not consider it impertinent. "

"Quite otherwise. I shall be very glad to get it. "

"You have been saying in your speeches that the bad water has been dueto intentional mismanagement of the present administration, which isruled by Mr. Blake, for the purpose of rendering unpopular themunicipal ownership principle. "

"I have, and it's been very effective. "

"I suggest that you go farther. "

"How?"

"Make the fever an issue of the campaign. The people, in fact all ofus, have been too excited, too frightened, to understand the relationbetween the bad management of the water-works, the bad water, and thefever. Tell them that relation. Only tell it carefully, by insinuationif necessary, so that you will avoid the libel law--for you have noproof as yet. Make them understand that the fever is due to bad water, which in turn is due to bad management of the water-works, which inturn is due to the influence of Mr. Blake. "

"Great! Great!" exclaimed Bruce. 

"Oh, the idea is not really mine, " she said coldly. "It came to mefrom some things my father told me. "

Her tone recalled to him their chilly relationship. 

"It's a regular knock-out idea, " he said stiffly. "And I'm muchobliged to you. "

They had turned back and were nearing the gate of the yard. 

"I hope it will really help you--but be careful to avoid giving theman opening to bring a libel charge. Permit me to say that you havebeen making a splendid campaign. "

"Things do seem to be coming my direction. The way I threw BlindCharlie's threat back into his teeth, that has made a great hit. Ithink I have him on the run. "

He hesitated, gave her a sharp look, then added rather defiantly:

"I might as well tell you that in a few days I expect to have Blakealso on the run--in fact, in a regular gallop. That Indianapolislawyer friend of mine, Wilson's his name, is coming here to help me. "

"Oh!" she exclaimed. 

"You'll remember, " he continued in his defiant tone, "that I once toldyou that your father's case was not your case. It's the city's. I'mgoing to put Wilson on it, and I expect him to clear it all up inshort order. "

She could not hold back a sudden uprush of resentment. 

"So then it's to be a battle between us, is it?" she demanded, lookinghim straight in the face. 

"A battle? How?"

"To see which one gets the evidence. "

"We've got to get it--that's all, " he answered grimly. 

In an instant she had resumed control of herself. 

"I hope you succeed, " she said calmly. "Good afternoon. " And with acrisp nod she turned away. 

Bruce's action in calmly taking the case out of her hands, which wasin effect an iteration of his statement that he had no confidence inher ability, stung her bitterly and for a space her wrath flamedhigh. But there were too many things to be done to give much time tomere resentment. She wrote the letter to the Chicago advertisingagency, mailed it, then set out to find her father. At the jail shewas told that he had been released and had left for Blake's. There shefound him. He came out into the hall, kissed her warmly, then hurriedback into the bedroom. Katherine, glancing through the open door, sawhim move swiftly about the old gray-haired woman, while Blake stood instrained silence looking on. 

When her father had done all for Mrs. Blake he could do at that time, Katherine hurried him away to Elsie Sherman. He replaced the verywilling Doctor Woods, who knew little about typhoid, and assumedcharge of Elsie with all his unerring mastery of what to do. He gaveher his very best skill, and he hovered about her with all the concernthat the illness of his own child might have evoked, for she had beena warm favourite with him and the charges of her husband had in nodegree lessened his regard. Whatever science and care and love coulddo for her, it all was certain to be done. 

Within two hours after Blake had received Doctor Brenholtz's telegramits contents had flashed about the town. Doctor West was besieged. Thenext day found him treating not only as many individual cases as hisstrength and the hours of the day allowed, but found him in command ofthe Board of Health's fight against the plague, with all the rest ofthe city's doctors accepting orders from him. All his long life ofincessant study and experiment, all those long years when he had beenlaughed at for a fool and jeered at for a failure--all that time hadbeen but an unconscious preparation for this great fight to save astricken city. And the town, for all its hatred, for all the stainupon his name, as it watched this slight, white-haired man go soswiftly and gently and efficiently about his work, began to feel forhim something akin to awe--began dimly to feel that this old figurewhom it had been their habit to scorn for near a generation wasperhaps their greatest man. 

While Katherine watched this fight against the fever with her fatheras its central figure, while she awaited in suspense some results ofher advertising campaign, and while she tried to press forward theother details of her search for evidence, she could but keep her eyesupon the mayoralty campaign--for it was mounting to an ever higherclimax of excitement. Bruce was fighting like a fury. The sensationcreated by his announcement of Blind Charlie's threatened treacherywas a mere nothing compared to the uproar created when he informed thepeople, not directly, but by careful insinuation, that Blake wasresponsible for the epidemic. 

Blake denied the charge with desperate energy and with all his powerof eloquence; he declared that the epidemic was but anotherconsequence of that supremest folly of mankind, public ownership. Hewas angrily supported by his party, his friends and his followers--butthose followers were not so many as a few short weeks before. Passionwas at its highest--so high that trustworthy forecasts of the electionwere impossible. But ten days before election it was freely talkedabout the streets, and even privately admitted by some of Blake's bestfriends, that nothing but a miracle could save him from defeat. 

In these days of promise Bruce seemed to pour forth an even greaterenergy; and in his efforts he was now aided by Mr. Wilson, theIndianapolis lawyer, who was spending his entire time in Westville. Katherine caught in Bruce's face, when they passed upon the street, agleam of triumph which he could not wholly suppress. She wondered, with a pang of jealousy, if he and Mr. Wilson were succeeding whereshe had failed--if all her efforts were to come to nothing--if herambition to demonstrate to Bruce that she could do things was to provea mere dream?

Toward noon one day, as she was walking along the Square homewardbound from Elsie Sherman's, she passed Bruce and Mr. Wilson headed forthe stairway of the _Express_ Building. Both bowed to her, thenKatherine overheard Bruce say, "I'll be with you in a minute, Wilson, "and the next instant he was at her side. 

"Excuse me, Miss West, " he said. "But we have just unearthed somethingwhich I think you should be the first person to learn. "

"I shall be glad to hear it, " she said in the cold, polite tone theyreserved for one another. 

"Let's go over into the Court House yard. "

They silently crossed the street and entered the comparative seclusionof the yard. 

"I suppose it is something very significant?" she asked. 

"So significant, " he burst out, "that the minute the _Express_ appearsthis afternoon Harrison Blake is a has-been!"

She looked at him quickly. The triumph she had of late seen gleamingin his face was now openly blazing there. 

"You mean----"

"I mean that I've got the goods on him!"

"You--you have evidence?"

"The best sort of evidence!"

"That will clear my father?"

"Perhaps not directly. Indirectly, yes. But it will smash Blake tosmithereens!"

She was happy on Bruce's account, on her father's, on the city's, butfor the moment she was sick upon her own. 

"Is the nature of the evidence a secret?"

"The whole town will know it this afternoon. I asked you over here totell you first. I have just secured a full confession from two ofBlake's accomplices. "

"Then you've discovered Doctor Sherman?" she exclaimed. 

"Doctor Sherman?" He stared at her. "I don't know what you mean. Thetwo men are the assistant superintendent of the water-works and theengineer at the pumping-plant. "

"How did you get at them?"

"Wilson and I started out to cross-examine everybody who might be inthe remotest way connected with the case. My suspicion against the twomen was first aroused by their strained behaviour. I went----"

"Then it was you who made this discovery, not that--that otherlawyer?"

"Yes, I was the first to tackle the pair, though Wilson has helped me. He's a great lawyer, Wilson. We've gone at them relentlessly--withaccusation, cross-examination, appeal; with the result that thismorning both of them broke down and confessed that Blake had secretlypaid them to do all that lay within their power to make thewater-works a failure. "

They followed the path in silence for several moments, Katherine'seyes upon the ground. At length she looked up. In Bruce's face sheplainly read what she had guessed to be an extra motive with him allalong, a glowering determination to crush her, humiliate her, adetermination to cut the ground from beneath her ambition byoverturning Blake and clearing her father without her aid. 

"And so, " she breathed, "you have made good all your predictions. Youhave succeeded and I have failed. "

For an instant his square face glowed upon her, exultant with triumph. Then he partially subdued the look. 

"We won't discuss that matter, " he said. "It's enough to repeat what Ionce said, that Wilson is a crackerjack lawyer. "

"All the same, I congratulate you--and wish you every success, " shesaid; and as quickly thereafter as she could she made her escape, herheart full of the bitterness of personal defeat. 

That afternoon the _Express_, in its largest type, in its editor'shighest-powered English, made its exposure of Harrison Blake. And thatafternoon there was pandemonium in Westville. Violence might have beenattempted upon Blake, but, fortunately for him, he had gone the nightbefore to Indianapolis--on a matter of state politics, it was said. 

Blake, however, was a man to fight to the last ditch. On the morningafter the publication of the _Express's_ charges, the _Clarion_printed an indignant denial from him. That same morning Bruce wasarrested on a charge of criminal libel, and that same day--the grandjury being in session--he was indicted. Blake's attorney demandedthat, since these charges had a very direct bearing upon theapproaching election, the trial should take precedence over othercases and be heard immediately. To this Bruce eagerly agreed, for hedesired nothing better than to demolish Blake in court, and the trialwas fixed for five days before election. 

Katherine, going about, heard the people jeer at Blake's denial; heardthem say that his demand for a trial was mere bravado to save his facefor a time--that when the trial came he would never show up. She sawthe former favourite of Westville become in an hour an object ofuniversal abomination. And, on the other hand, she saw Bruce leap upto the very apex of popularity. 

For Bruce's sake, for every one's sake but her own, she was rejoiced. But as for herself, she walked in the valley of humiliation, she ateof the ashes of bitterness. Swept aside by the onrush of events, feeling herself and her plans suddenly become futile, she decided tocease all efforts and countermand all orders. But she could not vetoher plan concerning Doctor Sherman, for her money was spent and heradvertisements were broadcast through the North. As for Mr. Manning, he stated that he had become so interested in the situation that hewas going to stay on in Westville for a time to see how affairs cameout. 

On the day of the trial Katherine and the city had one surprise at thevery start. Contrary to all predictions, Harrison Blake was in thecourt-room and at the prosecution's table. Despite all the judge, theclerk, and the sheriff could do to maintain order, there were criesand mutterings against him. Not once did he flinch, but sat lookingstraight ahead of him, or whispering to his private attorney or to thepublic prosecutor, Kennedy. He was a brave man. Katherine had knownthat. 

Bruce, all confidence, recited on the witness stand how he had come byhis evidence. Then the assistant superintendent told with mostconvincing detail how he had succumbed to Blake's temptation and donehis bidding. Next, the engineer testified to the same effect. 

The crowd lowered at Blake. Certainly matters looked blacker than everfor the one-time idol of the city. 

But Blake sat unmoved. His calmness begat a sort of uneasiness inKatherine. When the engineer had completed his direct testimony, Kennedy arose, and following whispered suggestions from Blake, cross-questioned the witness searchingly, ever more searchingly, pursued him in and out, in and out, till at length, snap!--Katherine'sheart stood still, and the crowd leaned forward breathless--snap, andhe had caught the engineer in a contradiction!

Kennedy went after the engineer with rapid-fire questions thatinvolved the witness in contradiction on contradiction--that got himconfused, then hopelessly tangled up--that then broke him downcompletely and drew from him a shamefaced confession. The fact was, hesaid, that Mr. Bruce, wanting campaign material, had privately come tohim and paid him to make his statements. He had had no dealings withMr. Blake whatever. He was a poor man--his wife was sick with thefever--he had needed the money--he hoped the court would be lenientwith him--etc. , etc. The other witness, recalled, confessed to thesame story. 

Amid a stunned court room, Bruce sprang to his feet. 

"Lies! Lies!" he cried in a choking fury. "They've been bought off byBlake!"

"Silence!" shouted Judge Kellog, pounding his desk with his gavel. 

"I tell you it's trickery! They've been bought off by Blake!"

"Silence!" thundered the judge, and followed with a dire threat ofcontempt of court. 

But already Mr. Wilson and Sheriff Nichols were dragging thestruggling Bruce back into his chair. More shouts and hammering ofgavels by the judge and clerk had partially restored to order thechaos begotten by this scene, when a bit of paper was slipped frombehind into Bruce's hand. He unfolded it with trembling fingers, andread in a disguised, back-hand scrawl:

 "There's still enough left of me to know what's happened. "

That was all. But Bruce understood. Here was the handiwork andvengeance of Blind Charlie Peck. He sprang up again and turned hisireful face to where, in the crowd, sat the old politician. 

"You--you----" he began. 

But before he got further he was again dragged down into his seat. Andalmost before the crowd had had time fairly to regain its breath, thejury had filed out, had filed back in again, had returned its verdictof guilty, and Judge Kellog had imposed a sentence of five hundreddollars fine and sixty days in the county jail. 

In all the crowd that looked bewildered on, Katherine was perhaps theonly one who believed in Bruce's cry of trickery. She saw that Blake, with Blind Charlie's cunning back of him, had risked his all on onebold move that for a brief period had made him an object of universalhatred. She saw that Bruce had fallen into a trap cleverly baited forhim, saw that he was the victim of an astute scheme to discredit himutterly and remove him from the way. 

As Blake left the Court House Katherine heard a great cheer go up forhim; and within an hour the evidence of eye and ear proved to her thathe was more popular than ever. She saw the town crowd about him tomake amends for the injustice it considered it had done him. And asfor Bruce, as he was led by Sheriff Nichols from the Court Housetoward the jail, she heard him pursued by jeers and hisses. 

Katherine walked homeward from the trial, completely dazed by thissudden capsizing of all of Bruce's hopes--and of her own hopes aswell, for during the last few days she had come to depend on Bruce forthe clearing of her father. That evening, and most of the night, shespent in casting up accounts. As matters then stood, they lookeddesperate indeed. On the one hand, everything pointed to Blake'selection and the certain success of his plans. On the other hand, shehad gained no clue whatever to the whereabouts of Doctor Sherman;nothing had as yet developed in the scheme she had built about Mr. Manning; as for Mr. Stone, she had expected nothing from him, and allhe had turned in to her was that he suspected secret relations betweenBlake and Peck. Furthermore, the man she loved--for yes, she loved himstill--was in jail, his candidacy collapsed, the cause for which hestood a ruin. And last of all, the city, to the music of its ownapplause, was about to be colossally swindled. 

A dark prospect indeed. But as she sat alone in the night, the cheersfor Blake floating in to her, she desperately determined to renew herfight. Five days still remained before election, and in five days onemight do much; during those five days her ships might still come homefrom sea. She summoned her courage, and gripped it fiercely. "I'll domy best! I'll do my best!" she kept breathing throughout the night. And her determination grew in its intensity as she realized the sum ofall the things for which she fought, and fought alone. 

She was fighting to save her father, she was fighting to save thecity, she was fighting to save the man she loved. 

CHAPTER XXII

THE LAST STAND

The next morning Katherine, incited by the desperate need of action, was so bold as to request Mr. Manning to meet her at Old Hosie's. Shewas fortunate enough to get into the office without being observed. The old lawyer, in preparation for the conference, had drawn hiswrinkled, once green shade as far down as he dared without givingcause for suspicion, and before the window had placed a high-backedchair and thrown upon it a greenish, blackish, brownish veteran of afall overcoat--thus balking any glances that might rove lazily upwardto his office. 

Old Hosie raised his lean figure from his chair and shook her hand, atfirst silently. He, too, was dazed by the collapse of Bruce'sfortunes. 

"Things certainly do look bad, " he said slowly. "I never suspectedthat his case would suddenly stand on its head like that. "

"Nor did I--though from the beginning I had an instinctive feelingthat it was too good, too easy, to be true. "

"And to think that after all we know the boy is right!" groaned theold man. 

"That's what makes the whole affair so tantalizing. We know he isright--we know my father is innocent--we know the danger the city isin--we know Mr. Blake's guilt--we know just what his plans are. Weknow everything! But we have not one jot of evidence that would bebelieved by the public. The irony of it! To think, for all ourknowledge, we can only look helplessly on and watch Mr. Blake succeedin everything. "

Old Hosie breathed an imprecation that must have made his ancestors, asleep behind the old Quaker meeting-house down in Buck Creek, gasp intheir grassy, cedar-shaded graves. 

"All the same, " Katherine added desperately, "we've got to half killourselves trying between now and election day!"

They subsided into silence. In nervous impatience Katherine awaitedthe appearance of the pseudo-investor in run-down farms. He seemed along time in coming, but the delay was all in her suspense, for as theCourt House clock was tolling the appointed hour Mr. Manning, _alias_Mr. Hartsell, walked into the office. He was, as Katherine had oncedescribed him to Old Hosie, a quiet, reserved man with thatconfidence-inspiring amplitude in the equatorial regions commonlyobservable in bank presidents and trusted officials of corporations. 

As he closed the door his subdued but confident dignity dropped fromhim and he warmly shook hands with Katherine, for this was their firstmeeting since their conference in New York six weeks before. 

"You must know how very, very terrible our situation is, " Katherinerapidly began. "We've simply _got_ to do something!"

"I certainly haven't done much so far, " said Manning, with a ruefulsmile. "I'm sorry--but you don't know how tedious my rôle's been tome. To act the part of bait, and just lie around before the noses ofthe fish you're after, and not get a bite in two whole weeks--that'snot my idea of exciting fishing. "

"I know. But the plan looked a good one. "

"It looked first-class, " conceded Manning. "And, perhaps----"

"With election only four days off, we've simply got to do something!"Katherine repeated. "If nothing else, let's drop that plan, devise anew one, and stake our hopes on some wild chance. "

"Wait a minute, " said Manning. "I wouldn't drop that plan just yet. I've gone two weeks without a bite, but--I'm not sure--remember I sayI'm not sure--but I think that at last I may possibly have a nibble. "

"A nibble you say?" cried Katherine, leaning eagerly forward. 

"At least, the cork bobbed under. "

"When?"

"Last night. "

"Last night? Tell me about it!"

"Well, of late I've been making my study of the water-works more andmore obvious, and I've half suspected that I've been watched, though Iwas too uncertain to risk raising any false hopes by sending you wordabout it. But yesterday afternoon Blind Charlie Peck--he's beengrowing friendly with me lately--yesterday Blind Charlie invited me tohave supper with him. The supper was in his private dining-room; justus two. I suspected that the old man was up to some game, and when Isaw the cocktails and whiskey and wine come on, I was pretty sure--foryou know, Miss West, when a crafty old politician of the Peck varietywants to steal a little information from a man, his regulation schemeis to get his man so drunk he doesn't know what he's talking about. "

"I know. Go on!"

"I tried to beg off from the drinking. I told Mr. Peck I did notdrink. I liked it, I said, but I could not carry it. A glass or twowould put me under the table, so the only safe plan for me was toleave it entirely alone. But he pressed me--and I took one. And hepressed me again, and I took another--and another--and another--tillI'd had five or----"

"But you should never have done it!" cried Katherine in alarm. 

Manning smiled at her reassuringly. 

"I'm no drinking man, but I'm so put together that I can swallow agallon and then sign the pledge with as steady a hand as the presidentof the W. C. T. U. But after the sixth drink I must have looked justabout right to Blind Charlie. He began to put cunning questions at me. Little by little all my secrets leaked out. The farm lands were only ablind. My real business in Westville was the water-works. There was achance that the city might sell them, and if I could get them I wasgoing to snap them up. In fact, I was going to make an offer to thecity in a very few days. I had been examining the system closely; itwasn't really in bad shape at all; it was worth a lot more than thepeople said; and I was ready, if I had to, to pay its full value toget it--even more. I had plenty of money behind me, for I wasrepresenting Mr. Seymour, the big New York capitalist. "

"Good! Good!" cried Katharine breathlessly. "How did he seem to takeit?"

"I could see that he was stirred up, and I guessed that he wasthinking big thoughts. "

"But did he say anything?"

"Not a word. Except that it was interesting. "

"Ah!" It was an exclamation of disappointment. Then she instantlyadded: "But of course he could not say anything until after he hadtalked it over with Mr. Blake. He'll do that this morning--if he didnot do it last night. You may be approached by them to-day. "

She stood up excitedly, and her brown eyes glowed. "After all, something may come of the plan!"

"It's at least an opening, " said Manning. 

"Yes. And let's use it for all it's worth. Don't you think it would bebest for you to go right back to your hotel, and keep yourself insight, so Mr. Peck won't have to lose a second in case he wants totalk to you again?"

"That's what I had in mind. "

"And all day I'll be either in my office, or at home, or at Mrs. Sherman's. And the minute anything develops, send word to Mr. Hollingsworth and he'll send word to me. "

"I'll not waste a minute, " he assured her. 

All day she waited with suppressed excitement for good news fromManning. But the only news was that there was no news. And so on thesecond day. And so on the third. Her hopes, that had flared so high, sunk by slow degrees to mere embers among the ashes. It appeared thatthe nibble, which had seemed but the preliminary to swallowing thebait, was after all no more than a nibble; that the fish had merelynosed the worm and swum away. In the meantime, while eaten up by thesuspense of this inaction, she was witness to activity of the moststrenuous variety. Never had she seen a man spring up into favour asdid Harrison Blake. His campaign meetings were resumed the very nightof Bruce's conviction; the city crowded to them; the Blake MarchingClub tramped the streets till midnight, with flaming torches, rousingthe enthusiasm of the people with their shouts and campaign songs; andwherever Blake appeared upon the platform he was greeted by an uproar, and even when he appeared by daylight, when men's spirits are moresedate, his progress through the streets was a series of miniatureovations. 

As for Bruce, Katherine saw his power and position crumble so swiftlythat she could hardly see them disappear. The structure of atremendous future had stood one moment imposingly before her eyes. Presto, and it was no more! The sentiment he had roused in favour ofpublic ownership, and against the regime of Blake, was as a thing thathad never been. With him in jail, his candidacy was but the ashes thatare left by a conflagration--though, to be sure, since the ballotswere already printed, it was too late to remove his name. He was athing to be cursed at, jeered at. He had suddenly become a littlelower than nobody, a little less than nothing. 

And as for his paper, when Katherine looked at it it made her sick atheart. Within a day it lost a third in size. Advertisers no longerdared, perhaps no longer cared, to give it patronage. Its news andeditorial character collapsed. This last she could hardly understand, for Billy Harper was in charge, and Bruce had often praised him to heras a marvel of a newspaper man. But one evening, when she was cominghome late from Elsie Sherman's and hurrying through the crowd of MainStreet, Billy Harper lurched against her. The next day, with a littleadroit inquiry, she learned that Harper, freed from Bruce'srestraining influence, and depressed by the general situation, wasdrinking constantly. It required no prophetic vision for Katherine tosee that, if things continued as they now were going, on the day Brucecame out of jail he would find the _Express_, which he had lifted topower and a promise of prosperity, had sunk into a disrepute and adecay from which even so great an energy as his could not restore it. 

Since there was so little she could do elsewhere, Katherine was at theShermans' several times a day, trying in unobtrusive ways to aid thenurse and Doctor Sherman's sister. Miss Sherman was a spare, silentwoman of close upon forty, with rather sharp, determined features. Despite her unloveliness, Katherine respected her deeply, for in otherdays Elsie had told her sister-in-law's story. Miss Sherman and herbrother were orphans. To her had been given certain plain virtues, tohim all the graces of mind and body. She was a country school-teacher, and it had been her hard work, her determination, her penny-countingeconomy, that had saved her talented brother from her early hardshipsand sent him through college. She had made him what he was; andbeneath her stern exterior she loved him with that intense devotion alonely, ingrowing woman feels for the object on which she has spenther life's thought and effort. 

Whenever Katherine entered the sick chamber--they had moved Elsie'sbed into the sitting-room because of its greater convenience andbetter air--her heart would stand still as she saw how white andwasted was her friend. At such a time she would recall with a chokingkeenness all of Elsie's virtues, each virtue increased andpurified--her simplicity, her purity, her loyalty. 

Several times Elsie came back from the brink of the Great Abyss, overwhich she so faintly hovered, and smiled at Katherine and spoke a fewwords--but only a few, for Doctor West allowed no more. Each time sheasked, with fluttering trepidation, if any word had come from herhusband; and each time at Katherine's choking negative she would tryto smile bravely and hide her disappointment. 

On one of the last days of this period--it was the Sunday beforeelection--Doctor West had said that either the end or a turn for thebetter must be close at hand. Katherine had been sitting long watchingElsie's pale face and faintly rising bosom, when Elsie slowly openedher eyes. Elsie pressed her friend's hand with a barely perceptiblepressure and smiled with the faintest shadow of a smile. 

"You here again, Katherine?" she breathed. 

"Yes, dear. "

"Just the same dear Katherine!"

"Don't speak, Elsie. "

She was silent a space. Then the wistful look Katherine had seen sooften came into the patient's soft gray eyes, and she knew whatElsie's words were going to be before they passed her lips. 

"Have you heard anything--from him?"

Katherine slowly shook her head. 

Elsie turned her face away for a moment. A sigh fluttered out. Thenshe looked back. 

"But you are still trying to find him?"

"We have done, and are doing, everything, dear. "

"I'm sure, " sighed Elsie, "that he would come if he only knew. "

"Yes--if he only knew. "

"And you will keep on--trying--to get him word?"

"Yes, dear. "

"Then perhaps--he may come yet. "

"Perhaps, " said Katherine, with hopeful lips. But in her heart therewas no hope. 

Elsie closed her eyes, and did not speak again. Presently Katherinewent out into the level, red-gold sunlight of the waning Novemberafternoon. The church bells, resting between their morning duty andthat of the night, all were silent; over the city there lay a hush--itwas as if the town were gathering strength for its final spasm ofcampaign activity on the morrow. There was nothing in that Sabbathcalm to disturb the emotion of Elsie's bedside, and Katherine walkedslowly homeward beneath the barren maples, in that fearful, tremulous, yearning mood in which she had left the bedside of her friend. 

In this same mood she reached home and entered the empty sitting-room. She was slowly drawing off her gloves when she perceived, upon thecentre-table, a special delivery letter addressed to herself. Shepicked it up in moderate curiosity. The envelope was plain, theaddress was typewritten, there was nothing to suggest the identity ofthe sender. In the same moderate curiosity she unfolded the inclosure. Then her curiosity became excitement, for the letter bore thesignature of Mr. Seymour. 

"I have to-day received a letter from Mr. Harrison Blake ofWestville, " Mr. Seymour wrote her, "of which the following is thetext: 'We have just learned that there is in our city a Mr. Hartsellwho represents himself to be an agent of yours instructed to purchasethe water-works of Westville. Before entering into any negotiationswith him the city naturally desires to be assured by you that he is arepresentative of your firm. As haste is necessary in this matter, werequest you to reply at once and by special delivery. "

"Ah, I understand the delay now!" Katherine exclaimed. "Before makinga deal with Mr. Manning, Mr. Blake and Mr. Peck wanted to be suretheir man was what he said he was!"

"And now, Miss West, " Mr. Seymour wrote on, "since you have kept me inthe dark as to the details of your plan, and as I have never heard ofsaid Hartsell, I have not known just how to reply to your Mr. Blake. So I have had recourse to the vague brevity of a busy man, and havesent the following by the same mail that brings this to you: 'Replyingto your inquiry of the 3rd inst. I beg to inform you that I have arepresentative in Westville fully authorized to act for me in thematter of the water-works. ' I hope this reply is all right. Also thereis a second hope, which is strong even if I try to keep it subdued;and that is that you will have to buy the water-works in for me. "

From that instant Katherine's mind was all upon her scheme. She wascertain that Mr. Seymour's reply was already in the hands of Blake andPeck, and that they were even then planning, or perhaps had alreadyplanned, what action they should take. At once she called Old Hosie upby telephone. 

"I think it looks as though the 'nibble' were going to develop into abite, and quick, " she said rapidly. "Get into communication with Mr. Manning and tell him to make no final arrangement with those partiestill he sees me. I want to know what they offer. "

It was an hour later, and the early night had already fallen, whenthere was a ring at the West door, and Old Hosie entered, alone. Katharine quickly led the old lawyer into the parlour. 

"Well?" she whispered. 

"Manning has just accepted an invitation for an automobile ride thisevening from Charlie Peck. "

Katherine suddenly gripped his hand. 

"That may be a bite!"

The old man nodded with suppressed excitement. 

"They were to set out at six. It's five minutes to six now. "

Without a word Katherine crossed swiftly and opened the door an inch, and stood tensely waiting beside it. Presently, through the calm ofthe Sabbath evening, there started up very near the sudden buzzing ofa cranked-up car. Then swiftly the buzzing faded away into thedistance. 

Katherine turned. 

"It's Mr. Blake's car. They'll all be at The Sycamores in half anhour. It's a bite, certain! Get hold of Mr. Manning as soon as hecomes back, and bring him here. The house will be darkened, but thefront door will be unlocked. Come right in. Come as late as youplease. You'll find me waiting here in the parlour. "

The hours that followed were trying ones for Katherine. She sat aboutwith her aunt till toward ten o'clock. Then her father returned fromhis last call, and soon thereafter they all went to their rooms. Katherine remained upstairs till she thought her father and aunt weresettled, then slipped down to the parlour, set the front door ajar, and sat waiting in the darkness. She heard the Court House clock withjudicial slowness count off eleven o'clock--then after a long, longspace, count off twelve. A few minutes later she heard Blake's carreturn, and after a time she heard the city clock strike one. 

It was close upon two when soft steps sounded upon the porch and thefront door opened. She silently shook hands with her two vaguevisitors. 

"We didn't think it safe to come any sooner, " explained Old Hosie in awhisper. 

"You've been with them out at The Sycamores?" Katherine eagerlyinquired of Manning. 

"Yes. For a four hours' session. "

"Well?"

"Well, so far it looks O. K. "

In a low voice he detailed to Katherine how they had at first fencedwith one another; how at length he had told them that he had a formalproposal to the city to buy the water-works all drawn up and that onthe morrow he was going to present it--and that, furthermore, hewould, if necessary, increase the sum he offered in that proposal tothe full value of the plant. Blake and Peck, after a slow approach tothe subject, in which they admitted that they also planned to buy thesystem, had suggested that, inasmuch as he was only an agent and therewould be no profit in the purchase to him personally, he abandon hispurpose. If he would do this they would make it richly worth hiswhile. He had replied that this was such a different plan from thatwhich he had been considering that he must have time to think it overand would give them his answer to-morrow. On which understanding thethree had parted. 

"I suppose it would hardly be practicable, " said Katherine when he hadfinished, "to have a number of witnesses concealed at your place ofmeeting and overhear your conversation?"

"No, it would be mighty difficult to pull that off. "

"And what's more, " she commented, "Mr. Blake would deny whatever theysaid, and with his present popularity his words would carry moreweight than that of any half dozen witnesses we might get. At thebest, our charges would drag on for months, perhaps years, in thecourts, with in the end the majority of the people believing in him. With the election so near, we must have instantaneous results. Wemust use a means of exposing him that will instantly convince all thepeople. "

"That's the way I see it, " agreed Manning. 

"When did they offer to pay you, in case you agreed to sell out tothem?"

"On the day they got control of the water-works. Naturally they didn'twant to pay me before, for fear I might break faith with them and buyin the system for Mr. Seymour. "

"Can't you make them put their proposition in the form of anagreement, to be signed by all three of you?" asked Katherine. 

"But mebbe they won't consent to that, " put in Old Hosie. 

"Mr. Manning will know how to bring them around. He can say, forexample, that, unless he has such a written agreement, they will be ina position to drop him when once they've got what they want. He cansay that unless they consent to sign some such agreement he will go onwith his original plan. I think they'll sign. "

"And if they do?" queried Old Hosie. 

"If they do, " said Katherine, "we'll have documentary evidence to showWestville that those two great political enemies, Mr. Blake and Mr. Peck, are secretly business associates--their business being aconspiracy to wreck the water-works and defraud the city. I think sucha document would interest Westville. "

"I should say it would!" exclaimed Old Hosie. 

They whispered on, excitedly, hopefully; and when the two men haddeparted and Katherine had gone up to her room to try to snatch a fewhours' sleep, she continued to dwell eagerly upon the plan that seemedso near of consummation. She tossed about her bed, and heard the CourtHouse clock sound three, and then four. Then the heat of herexcitement began to pass away, and cold doubts began to creep into hermind. Perhaps Blake and Peck would refuse to sign. And even if theydid sign, she began to see this prospective success as a thing oflesser magnitude. The agreement would prove the alliance between Blakeand Peck, and would make clear that a conspiracy existed. It was good, but it was not enough. It fell short by more than half. It would notclear her father, though his innocence might be inferred, and it wouldnot prove Blake's responsibility for the epidemic. 

As she lay there staring wide-eyed into the gloom of the night, listening to the town clock count off the hours of her last day, sherealized that what she needed most of all, far more than Manning'sdocument even should he get it, was the testimony which she believedwas sealed behind the lips of Doctor Sherman, whose presentwhereabouts God only knew. 

CHAPTER XXIII

AT ELSIE'S BEDSIDE

The day before election, a day of hope deferred, had dragged slowly byand night had at length settled upon the city. Doctor West had theminute before come in from a long, dinnerless day of hastening fromcase to case, and now he, Katherine, and her aunt were sitting aboutthe supper table. To Katherine's eye her father looked very weary andwhite and frail. The day-and-night struggle at scores of bedsides wassorely wearing him down. 

As for Katherine, she was hardly less worn. She scarcely touched thefood before her. The fears that always assail one at a crisis, nowswarmed in upon her. With the election but a few hours distant, withno word as yet from Mr. Manning, she saw all her high plans coming tonaught and saw herself overwhelmed with utter defeat. From withoutthere dimly sounded the beginning of the ferment of the campaign'sfinal evening; it brought to her more keenly that to-morrow the citywas going to give itself over unanimously to be despoiled. Across thetable, her father, pale and worried, was a reminder that, when hisfight of the plague was completed, he must return to jail. Her mindflashed now and then to Bruce; she saw him in prison; she saw not onlyhis certain defeat on the morrow, but she saw him crushed and ruinedfor life as far as a career in Westville was concerned; and though shebravely tried to master her feeling, the throbbing anguish with whichshe looked upon his fate was affirmation of how poignant anddeep-rooted was her love. 

And yet, despite these flooding fears, she clung with a dizzydesperation to hope, and to the determination to fight on to the lastsecond of the last minute. 

While swinging thus between despair and desperate hope, she wasmaintaining, at first somewhat mechanically to be sure, a conversationwith her father, whom she had not seen since their early breakfasttogether. 

"How does the fever situation seem to-night?" she asked. 

"Much better, " said Doctor West. "There were fewer new cases reportedto-day than any day for a week. "

"Then you are getting the epidemic under control?"

"I think we can at last say we have it thoroughly in hand. The numberof new cases is daily decreasing, and the old cases are doing well. Idon't know of an epidemic of this size on record where the mortalityhas been so small. "

She came out of her preoccupation and breathlessly demanded:

"Tell me, how is Elsie Sherman? I could not get around to see herto-day. "

He dropped his eyes to his plate and did not answer. 

"You mean she is no better?"

"She is very low. "

"But she still has a chance?"

"Yes, she has a chance. But that's about all. The fever is at itsclimax. I think to-night will decide which it's to be. "

"You are going to her again to-night?"

"Right after supper. "

"Then I'll go with you, " said Katherine. "Poor Elsie! Poor Elsie!" shemurmured to herself. Then she asked, "Have they had any word fromDoctor Sherman?"

"I asked his sister this afternoon. She said they had not. "

They fell silent for a moment or two. Doctor West nibbled at his hamwith a troubled air. 

"There is one feature of the case I cannot approve of, " he at lengthremarked "Of course the Shermans are poor, but I do not think MissSherman should have impaired Elsie's chances, such as they are, frommotives of economy. "

"Impaired Elsie's chances?" queried Katherine. 

"And certainly she should not have done so without consulting me, "continued Doctor West. 

"Done what?"

"Oh, I forgot I had not had a chance to tell you. When I made my firstcall this morning I learned that Miss Sherman had discharged thenurse. "

"Discharged the nurse?"

"Yes. During the night. "

"But what for?"

"Miss Sherman said they could not afford to keep her. "

"But with Elsie so dangerously sick, this is no time to economize!"

"Exactly what I told her. And I said there were plenty of friends whowould have been happy to supply the necessary money. "

"And what did she say?"

"Very little. She's a silent, determined woman, you know. She saidthat even at such a time they could not accept charity. "

"But did you not insist upon her getting another nurse?"

"Yes. But she refused to have one. "

"Then who is looking after Elsie?"

"Miss Sherman. "

"Alone?"

"Yes, alone. She has even discharged old Mrs. Murphy, who came in fora few hours a day to clean up. "

"It seems almost incomprehensible!" ejaculated Katherine. "Think ofrunning such a risk for the sake of a few dollars!"

"After all, Miss Sherman isn't such a bad nurse, " Doctor West's senseof justice prompted him to admit. "In fact, she is really doing verywell. "

"All the same, it seems incomprehensible!" persisted Katherine. "Foreconomy's sake----"

She broke off and was silent a moment. Then suddenly she leaned acrossthe table. 

"You are sure she gave no other reason?"

"None. "

"And you believe her?"

"Why, you don't think she would lie to me, do you?" exclaimed DoctorWest. 

"I don't say that, " Katherine returned rapidly. "But she's shrewd andclose-mouthed. She might not have told you the whole truth. "

"But what could have been her real reason then?"

"Something besides the reason she gave. That's plain. "

"But what is it? Why, Katherine, " her father burst out, half risingfrom his chair, "what's the matter with you?"

Her eyes were glowing with excitement. "Wait! Wait!" she said quickly, lifting a hand. 

She gazed down upon the table, her brow puckered with intense thought. Her father and her aunt stared at her in gathering amazement, andwaited breathlessly till she should speak. 

After a minute she glanced up at her father. The strange look in herface had grown more strange. 

"You saw no one else there besides Miss Sherman?" she asked quickly. 

"No. "

"Nor signs of any one?"

"No, " repeated the bewildered old man. "What are you thinking of, Katherine?"

"I don't dare say it--I hardly dare think it!"

She pushed back her chair and arose. She was quivering all over, butshe strove to command her agitation. 

"As soon as you're through supper, father, I'll be ready to go toElsie. "

"I'm through now. "

"Come on, then. Let's not lose a minute!"

They hurried out and entered the carriage which, at the city'scharge, stood always waiting Doctor West's requirements. "To Mrs. Sherman's--quick!" Katherine ordered the driver, and the horseclattered away through the crisp November night. 

Already people were streaming toward the centre of the town to sharein the excitement of the campaign's closing night. As the carriagepassed the Square, Katherine saw, built against the Court House andbrilliantly festooned with vari-coloured electric bulbs, the speakers'stand from which Blake and others of his party were later to addressthe final mass-meeting of the campaign. 

The carriage turned past the jail into Wabash Avenue, and a minuteafterward drew up beside the Sherman cottage. Pulsing with the doublesuspense of her conjecture and of her concern for Elsie's life, Katherine followed her father into the sick chamber. As they enteredthe hushed room the spare figure of Miss Sherman rose from a rockerbeside the bed, greeted them with a silent nod, and drew back to giveplace to Doctor West. 

Katherine moved slowly to the foot of the bed and gazed down. For aspace, one cause of her suspense was swept out of her being, and allher concern was for the flickering life before her. Elsie lay witheyes closed, and breathing so faintly that she seemed scarcely tobreathe at all. So pale, so wasted, so almost wraithlike was she as tosuggest that when her spirit fled, if flee it must, nothing could beleft remaining between the sheets. 

As she gazed down upon her friend, hovering uncertainly upon life'sthreshold, a tingling chill pervaded Katherine's body. Since hermother's loss in unremembering childhood, Death had been kind to her;no one so dear had been thus carried up to the very brink of thegrave. All that had been sweet and strong in her friendship with Elsienow flooded in upon her in a mighty wave of undefined emotion. She wasimmediately conscious only of the wasted figure before her, and itsperil, but back of consciousness were unformed memories of theirgirlhood together, of the inseparable intimacy of their youngwomanhood, and of that shy and tender time when she had been theconfidante of Elsie's courtship. 

There was a choking at her throat, tears slipped down her cheeks, andthere surged up a wild, wild wish, a rebellious demand, that Elsiemight come safely through her danger. 

But, presently, her mind reverted to the special purpose that hadbrought her hither. She studied the face of Miss Sherman, seekingconfirmation of the conjecture that had so aroused her--studying alsofor some method of approaching Miss Sherman, of breaking down herguard, and gaining the information she desired. But she learnednothing from the expression of those spare, self-contained features;and she realized that the lips of the Sphinx would be easier to unlockthan those of this loyal sister of a fugitive brother. 

That her conjecture was correct, she became every instant moreconvinced. She sensed it in the stilled atmosphere of the house; shesensed it in the glances of cold and watchful hostility Miss Shermannow and then stole at her. She was wondering what should be her nextstep, when Doctor West, who had felt Elsie's pulse and examined thetemperature chart, drew Miss Sherman back to near where Katherinestood. 

"Still nothing from Doctor Sherman?" he whispered in grave anxiety. 

"Nothing, " said Miss Sherman, looking straight into her questioner'seyes. 

"Too bad, too bad!" sighed Doctor West. "He ought to be home!"

Miss Sherman let the first trace of feeling escape from her compressedbeing. 

"But still there is a chance?" she asked quickly. 

"A fighting chance. I think we shall know which it's to be within anhour. "

At these words Katherine heard from behind her ever so faint a sound, a sound that sent a thrill through all her nerves. A sound like astifled groan. For a minute or more she did not move. But when DoctorWest and Miss Sherman had gone back to their places and Doctor Westhad begun the final fight for Elsie's life, she slowly turned about. Before her was a door. Her heart gave a leap. When she had entered shehad searched the room with a quick glance, and that door had then beenclosed. It now stood slightly ajar. 

Some one within must have noiselessly opened it to hear Doctor West'sdecree upon the patient. 

Swiftly and silently Katherine slipped through the door and locked itbehind her. For a moment she stood in the darkness, striving to masterher throbbing excitement. 

At length she spoke. 

"Will you please turn on the light, Doctor Sherman, " she said. 

There was no answer; only a black and breathless silence. 

"Please turn on the light, Doctor Sherman, " Katherine repeated. "Icannot, for I do not know where the electric button is. "

Again there was silence. Then Katherine heard something like a gasp. There was a click, and then the room, Doctor Sherman's study, burstsuddenly into light. 

Behind the desk, one hand still upon the electric key, stood DoctorSherman. He was very thin and very white, and was worn, wild-eyed anddishevelled. He was breathing heavily and he stared at Katherine withthe defiance of a desperate creature brought at last to bay. 

"What do you want?" he demanded huskily. 

"A little talk with you, " replied Katherine, trying to speak calmly. 

"You must excuse me. With Elsie so sick, I cannot talk. "

She stood very straight before him. Her eyes never left his face. 

"We must talk just the same, " she returned. "When did you come home?"

"Last night. "

"Why did you not let your friends know of your return? All day, infact for several days, they have been sending telegrams to every placewhere they could conceive your being. "

He did not answer. 

"It looks very much as if you were trying to hide. "

Again he did not reply. 

"It looks very much, " she steadily pursued, "as if your sisterdischarged the nurse and the servant in order that you might hide herein your own home without risk of discovery. "

Still he did not answer. 

"You need not reply to that question, for the reply is obvious. Iguessed the meaning of the nurse's discharge as soon as I heard of it. I guessed that you were secretly hovering over Elsie, while allWestville thought you were hundreds of miles away. But tell me, howdid you learn that Elsie was sick?"

He hesitated, then swallowed. 

"I saw a notice of it in a little country paper. "

"Ah, I thought so. "

She moved forward and leaned across the desk. Their eyes were no morethan a yard apart. 

"Tell me, " she said quietly, "why did you slip into town by night? Whyare you hiding in your own home?"

A tremor ran through his slender frame. With an effort he tried totake the upperhand. 

"You must excuse me, " he said, with an attempt at sharp dignity. "Irefuse to be cross-examined. "

"Then I will answer for you. The reason, Doctor Sherman, is that youhave a guilty conscience. "

"That is not----"

"Do not lie, " she interrupted quickly. "You realize what you havedone, you are afraid it may become public, you are afraid of theconsequences to yourself--and that is why you slipped back in the deadof night and lie hidden like a fugitive in your own house. "

A spasm of agony crossed his face. 

"For God's sake, tell me what you want and leave me!"

"I want you to clear my father. "

"Clear your father?" he cried. "And how, if you please?"

"By confessing that he is innocent. "

"When he is guilty!"

"You know he is not. "

"He's guilty--he's guilty, I tell you! Besides, " he added, wildly, "don't you see that if I proclaim him innocent I proclaim myself aperjured witness?"

She leaned a little farther across the desk. 

"Is not that exactly what you are, Doctor Sherman?"

He shrank back as though struck. One hand went tremulously to his chinand he stared at her. 

"No! No!" he burst out spasmodically. "It's not so! I shall not admitit! Would you have me ruin myself for all time? Would you have me ruinElsie's future! Would you have me kill her love for me?"

"Then you will not confess?"

"I tell you there is nothing to confess!"

She gazed at him steadily a moment. Then she turned back to the door, softly unlocked and opened it. He started to rush through, but sheraised a hand and stopped him. 

"Just look, " she commanded in a whisper. 

He stared through the open door. They could see Elsie's white faceupon the pillow, with the two dark braids beside it; and could seeDoctor West hovering over her. He had not heard them, but Miss Shermanhad, and she directed at Katherine a pale and hostile glance. 

The young husband twisted his hands in agony. 

"Oh, Elsie! Elsie!" he moaned. 

Katherine closed the door, and turned again to Doctor Sherman. 

"You have seen your work, " she said. "Do you still persist in yourinnocence?"

He drew a deep, shivering breath and shrank away behind his desk, butdid not answer. 

Katherine followed him. 

"Do you know how sick your wife is?"

"I heard your father say. "

"She is swinging over eternity by a mere thread. " Katherine leanedacross the desk and her eyes gazed with an even greater fixity intohis. "If the thread snaps, do you know who will have broken it?"

"Don't! Don't!" he begged. 

"Her own husband, " Katherine went on relentlessly. 

A cry of agony escaped him. 

"You saw that old man in there bending over her, " she pursued, "trying with all his skill, with all his love, to save her--to saveher from the peril you have plunged her into--and with never a bitterfeeling against you in his heart. If she lives, it will be because ofhim. And yet that old man is ruined and has a blackened reputation. Iask you, do you know who ruined him?"

"Don't! Don't!" he cried, and he sank a crumpled figure at his desk, and buried his face in his arms. 

"Look up!" cried Katherine sternly. 

"Wait!" he moaned. "Wait!"

She passed around the desk and firmly raised his shoulders. 

"Look me in the eyes!"

He lifted a face that worked convulsively. 

She stood accusingly before him. "Out with the truth!" she commandedin a rising voice. "In the presence of your wife, perhaps dying, anddying as the result of your act--in the presence of that old man, whomyou have ruined with your word--do you still dare to maintain yourinnocence? Out with the truth, I say!"

He sprang to his feet. 

"I can stand it no longer!" he gasped in an agony that went toKatherine's heart. "It's killing me! It's been tearing me apart formonths! What I have suffered--oh, what I have suffered! I'll tell youall--all! Oh, let me get it off my soul!"

The desperation of his outburst, the sight of his fine face convulsedwith uttermost agony and repentance, worked a sudden revulsion inKatherine's heart. All her bitterness, her momentary sternness, rushedout of her, and there she was, quivering all over, hot tears in hereyes, gripping the hands of Elsie's husband. 

"I'm so glad--not only for father's sake--but for your sake, " shecried chokingly. 

"Let me tell you at once! Let me get it out of myself!"

"First sit down, " and she gently pressed him back into his chair anddrew one up to face him. "And wait for a moment or two, till you feela little calmer. "

He bowed his head into his hands, and for a space breathed deeply andtremulously. Katherine stood waiting. Through the night sounded thebrassy strains of "My Country 'Tis of Thee. " Back at the Court HouseBlake's party was opening its great mass-meeting. 

"I'm a coward--a coward!" Doctor Sherman groaned at length into hishands. And in a voice of utmost contrition he went on and told how, togain money for the proper care of Elsie, he had been drawn intogambling in stocks; how he had made use of church funds to savehimself in a falling market, and how this church money had, like hisown, been swallowed down by Wall Street; how Blake had discovered theembezzlement, for the time had saved him, but later by threat ofexposure had driven him to play the part he had against Doctor West. 

"You must make this statement public, instantly!" Katherine exclaimedwhen he had finished. 

He shrank back before that supreme humiliation. "Let me do itlater--please, please!" he besought her. 

"A day's delay will be----" She caught his arm. "Listen!" shecommanded. 

Both held their breath. Through the night came the stirring music of"The Star Spangled Banner. "

"What is that?" he asked. 

"The great rally of Mr. Blake's party at the Court House. " Her nextwords drove in. "To-morrow Mr. Blake is going to capture the city, andbe in position to rob it. And all because of your act, DoctorSherman!"

"You are right, you are right!" he breathed. 

She held out a pen to him. 

"You must write your statement at once. "

"Yes, yes, " he cried, "only let it be short now. I'll make it in fulllater. "

"You need write only a summary. "

He seized the pen and dipped it into the ink and for a moment held itshaking over a sheet of paper. 

"I cannot shape it--the words won't come. "

"Shall I dictate it then?"

"Do! Please do!"

"You are willing to confess everything?"

"Everything!"

Katherine stood thinking for a moment at his side. 

"Ready, then. Write, 'I embezzled funds from my church; Mr. Blakefound me out, and replaced what I had taken, with no one being thewiser. Later, by the threat of exposing me if I refused, he compelledme to accuse Doctor West of accepting a bribe and still later hecompelled me to testify in court against Doctor West. Mr. Blake'spurpose in so doing was to remove Doctor West from his position, ruinthe water-works, and buy them in at a bargain. I hereby confess anddeclare, of my own free will, that I have been guilty of lying and ofperjury. ' Do you want to say that?"

"Yes! Yes!"

"'And I further confess and declare that Dr. David West is innocent inevery detail of the charges made against him. Signed, HaroldSherman. '"

He dropped his pen and sprang up. 

"And now may I go in to Elsie?"

"You may. "

He hurried noiselessly across the room and through the door. Katherine, picking up the precious paper she had worked so many monthsto gain, followed him. Miss Sherman saw them come in, but remainedsilent. Doctor West was bending over Elsie and did not hear theirentrance. 

Doctor Sherman tiptoed to the bedside, and stood gazing down, hisbreath held, hardly less pale than the soft-sleeping Elsie herself. Presently Doctor West straightened up and perceived the youngminister. He started, then held out his hand. 

"Why, Doctor Sherman!" he whispered eagerly. "I'm so glad you've comeat last!"

The younger man drew back. 

"You won't be willing to shake hands with me--when you know. " Then hetook a quick half step forward. "But tell me, " he breathed, "isthere--is there any hope?"

"I dare not speak definitely yet--but I think she is going to live. "

"Thank God!" cried the young man. 

Suddenly he collapsed upon the floor and embraced Doctor West aboutthe knees, and knelt there sobbing out broken bits of sentences. 

"Why--why, " stammered Doctor West in amazement, "what does this mean?"

Katherine moved forward. Her voice quavered, partly from joy, partlyfrom pity for the anguished figure upon the floor. 

"It means you are cleared, father! This will explain. " And she gavehim Doctor Sherman's confession. 

The old man read it, then passed a bewildered hand across his face. 

"I--I don't understand this!"

"I'll explain it later, " said Katherine. 

"Is--is this true?" It was to the young minister that Doctor Westspoke. 

"Yes. And more. I can't ask you to forgive me!" sobbed Doctor Sherman. "It's beyond forgiveness! But I want to thank you for saving Elsie. Atleast you'll let me thank you for that!"

"What I have done here has been only my duty as a physician, " saidDoctor West gently. "As for the other matter"--he looked the paperthrough, still with bewilderment--"as for that, I'm afraid I am notthe chief sufferer, " he said slowly, gently. "I have been under acloud, it is true, and I won't deny that it has hurt. But I am an oldman, and it doesn't matter much. You are young, just beginning life. Of us two you are the one most to be pitied. "

"Don't pity me--please!" cried the minister. "I don't deserve it!"

"I'm sorry--so sorry!" Doctor West shook his head. Apparently he hadforgotten the significance of this confession to himself. "I havealways loved Elsie, and I have always admired you and been proud ofyou. So if my forgiveness means anything to you, why I forgive youwith all my heart!"

A choking sound came from the bowed figure, but no words. Hisembracing arms fell away from Doctor West. He knelt there limply, hishead bowed upon his bosom. There was a moment of breathless silence. In the background Miss Sherman stood looking on, white, tense, dry-eyed. 

Doctor Sherman turned slowly, fearfully, toward the bed. 

"But, Elsie, " he whispered in a dry, lost voice. "It's all bad--butthat's the worst of all. When she knows, she never can forgive me!"

Katherine laid a hand upon his shoulder. 

"If you think that, then you don't know Elsie. She will be pained, butshe loves you with all her soul; she would forgive you anything solong as you loved her, and she would follow you through every miseryto the ends of the world. "

"Do you think so?" he breathed; and then he crept to the bed andburied his face upon it. 

Katherine looked down upon him for a moment. Then her own concernsbegan flooding back upon her. She realized that she had not yet wonthe fight. She had only gained a weapon. 

"I must go now, " she whispered to her father, taking the paper fromhis hand. 

Throbbing with returned excitement, she hurried out to the dimlycomprehended, desperate effort that lay before her. 

CHAPTER XXIV

BILLY HARPER WRITES A STORY

As Katherine crossed the porch and went down the steps she saw, entering the yard, a tall, square-hatted apparition. 

"Is that you, Miss Katherine?" it called softly to her. 

"Yes, Mr. Hollingsworth. "

"I was looking for you. " He turned and they walked out of the yardtogether. "I went to your house, and your aunt told me you were here. I've got it!" he added excitedly. 

"Got what?"

"The agreement!"

She stopped short and seized his arm. 

"You mean between Blake, Peck, and Manning?"

"Yes. I've got it!"

"Signed?"

"All signed!" And he slapped the breast pocket of his old frock-coat. 

"Let me see it! Please!"

He handed it to her, and by the light of a street lamp she glanced itthrough. 

"Oh, it's too good to believe!" she murmured exultantly. "Oh, oh!" Shethrust it into her bosom, where it lay beside Doctor Sherman'sconfession. "Come, we must hurry!" she cried. And with her arm throughhis they set off in the direction of the Square. 

"When did Mr. Manning get this?" she asked, after a moment. 

"I saw him about an hour ago. He had then just got it. "

"It's splendid! Splendid!" she ejaculated. "But I have something, too!"

"Yes?" queried the old man. 

"Something even better. " And as they hurried on she told him of DoctorSherman's confession. 

Old Hosie burst into excited congratulations, but she quickly checkedhim. 

"We've no time now to rejoice, " she said. "We must think how we aregoing to use these statements--how we are going to get thisinformation before the people, get it before them at once, and get itbefore them so they must believe it. "

They walked on in silent thought. From the moment they had left theShermans' gate the two had heard a tremendous cheering from thedirection of the Square, and had seen a steady, up-reaching glow, atintervals brilliantly bespangled by rockets and roman candles. Now, asthey came into Main Street, they saw that the Court House yard wasjammed with an uproarious multitude. Within the speakers' stand wasthroned the Westville Brass Band; enclosing the stand in an imposingsemicircle was massed the Blake Marching Club, in uniforms, theirflaring torches adding to the illumination of the festoons ofincandescent bulbs; and spreading fanwise from this uniformed nucleusit seemed that all of Westville was assembled--at least all ofWestville that did not watch at fevered bedsides. 

At the moment that Katherine and Old Hosie, walking along the southernside of Main Street, came opposite the stand, the first speakerconcluded his peroration and resumed his seat. There was an outburstof "Blake! Blake! Blake!" from the enthusiastic thousands; but theWestville Brass Band broke in with the chorus of "Marching ThroughGeorgia. " The stirring thunder of the band had hardly died away, whenthe thousands of voices again rose in cries of "Blake! Blake! Blake!"

The chairman with difficulty quieted the crowd, and urged them to havepatience, as all the candidates were going to speak, and Blake was notto speak till toward the last. Kennedy was the next orator, and hetold the multitude, with much flinging heavenward of loose-jointedarms, what an unparalleled administration the officers to be electedon the morrow would give the city, and how first and foremost it wouldbe their purpose to settle the problem of the water-works in such amanner as to free the city forever from the dangers of anotherepidemic such as they were now experiencing. As supreme climax to hisspeech, he lauded the ability, character and public spirit of Blaketill superlatives could mount no higher. 

When he sat down the crowd went well-nigh mad. But amid the cheeringfor the city's favourite, some one shouted the name of Doctor West andwith it coupled a vile epithet. At once Doctor West's name sweptthrough the crowd, hissed, jeered, cursed. This outbreak made clearone ominous fact. The enthusiasm of the multitude was not justordinary, election-time enthusiasm. Beneath it was smouldering adesire of revenge for the ills they had suffered and were suffering--adesire which at a moment might flame up into the uncontrollable furyof a mob. 

Katherine clutched Old Hosie's arm. 

"Did you hear those cries against my father?"

"Yes. "

"Well, I know now what I shall do!"

He saw that her eyes were afire with decision. 

"What?"

"I am going across there, watch my chance, slip out upon the speakers'stand, and expose and denounce Mr. Blake before Mr. Blake's ownaudience!"

The audacity of the plan for a moment caught Old Hosie's breath. Thenits dramatic quality fired his imagination. 

"Gorgeous!" he exclaimed. 

"Come on!" she cried. 

She started across the street, with Old Hosie at her heels. But beforeshe reached the opposite curb she paused, and turned slowly back. 

"What's the matter?" asked Old Hosie. 

"It won't do. The people on the stand would pull me down before I gotstarted speaking. And even if I spoke, the people would not believeme. I have got to put this evidence"--she pressed the documents withinher bosom--"before their very eyes. No, we have got to think of someother way. "

By this time they were back in the seclusion of the doorway of the_Express_ Building, where they had previously been standing. Forseveral moments the hoarse, vehement oratory of a tired throat raspedupon their heedless ears. Once or twice Old Hosie stole a glance atKatherine's tensely thoughtful face, then returned to his ownmeditation. 

Presently she touched him on the arm. He looked up. 

"I have it this time!" she said, with the quiet of suppressedexcitement. 

"Yes?"

"We're going to get out an extra!"

"An extra?" he exclaimed blankly. 

"Yes. Of the _Express_!"

"An extra of the _Express_?"

"Yes. Get it out before this crowd scatters, and in it reproductionsof these documents!"

He stared at her. "Son of Methuselah!" Then he whistled. Then his lookbecame a bit strange, and there was a strange quality to his voicewhen he said:

"So you are going to give Arnold Bruce's paper the credit of theexposure?"

His tone told her the meaning that lay behind his words. He had knownof the engagement, and he knew that it was now broken. She flushed. 

"It's the best way, " she said shortly. 

"But you can't do it alone!"

"Of course not. " Her voice began to gather energy. "We've got to getthe _Express_ people here at once--and especially Mr. Harper. Everything depends on Mr. Harper. He'll have to get the paper out. "

"Yes! Yes!" said Old Hosie, catching her excitement. 

"You look for him here in this crowd--and, also, if you can see to it, send some one to get the foreman and his people. I'll look for Mr. Harper at his hotel. We'll meet here at the office. "

With that they hurried away on their respective errands. Arrived atthe National House, where Billy Harper lived, Katherine walked intothe great bare office and straight up to the clerk, whom themass-meeting had left as the room's sole occupant. 

"Is Mr. Harper in?" she asked quickly. 

The clerk, one of the most prodigious of local beaux, was startled bythis sudden apparition. 

"I--I believe he is. "

"Please tell him at once that I wish to see him. "

He fumbled the white wall of his lofty collar with an embarrassedhand. 

"Excuse me, Miss West, but the fact is, I'm afraid he can't see you. "

"Give him my name and tell him I simply _must_ see him. "

The clerk's embarrassment waxed greater. 

"I--I guess I should have said it the other way around, " he stammered. "I'm afraid you won't want to see him. "

"Why not?"

"The fact is--he's pretty much cut up, you know--and he's been soworried that--that--well, the plain fact is, " he blurted out, "Mr. Harper has been drinking. "

"To-night?"

"Yes. "

"Much?"

"Well--I'm afraid quite a little. "

"But he's here?"

"He's in the bar-room. "

Katherine's heart had been steadily sinking. 

"I must see him anyhow!" she said desperately. "Please call him out!"

The clerk hesitated, in even deeper embarrassment. This affair wasquite without precedent in his career. 

"You must call him out--this second! Didn't you hear me?"

"Certainly, certainly. "

He came hastily from behind his desk and disappeared through a pair ofswinging wicker doors. After a moment he reappeared, alone, and hismanner showed a degree of embarrassment even more acute. 

Katherine crossed eagerly to meet him. 

"You found Mr. Harper?"

"Yes. "

"Well?"

"I couldn't make him understand. And even if I could, he's--he's--well, " he added with a painful effort, "he's in nocondition for you to talk to, Miss West. "

Katherine gazed whitely at the clerk for a moment. Then without a wordshe stepped by him and passed through the wicker door. With a glanceshe took in the garishly lighted room--its rows of bottles, itsglittering mirrors, its white-aproned bartender, its pair of toperswhose loyalty to the bar was stronger than the lure of oratory andmusic at the Square. And there at a table, his head upon his arms, satthe loosely hunched body of him who was the foundation of all herpresent hopes. 

She moved swiftly across the sawdusted floor and shook the actingeditor by the shoulder. 

"Mr. Harper!" she called into his ear. 

She shook him again, and again she called his name. 

"Le' me 'lone, " he grunted thickly. "Wanter sleep. "

She was conscious that the two topers had paused in mid-drink and werelooking her way with a grinning, alcoholic curiosity. She shook theeditor with all her strength. 

"Mr. Harper!" she called fiercely. 

"G'way!" he mumbled. "'M busy. Wanter sleep. "

Katherine gazed down at the insensate mass in utter hopelessness. Without him she could do nothing, and the precious minutes wereflying. Through the night came a rumble of applause and fast upon itthe music of another patriotic air. 

In desperation she turned to the bartender. 

"Can't you help me rouse him?" she cried. "I've simply _got_ to speakto him!"

That gentleman had often been appealed to by frantic women as againstcustomers who had bought too liberally. But Katherine was a newvariety in his experience. There was a great deal too much of himabout the waist and also beneath the chin, but there was good-naturein his eyes, and he came from behind his counter and bore himselftoward Katherine with a clumsy and ornate courtesy. 

"Don't see how you can, Miss. He's been hittin' an awful pace lately. You see for yourself how far gone he is. "

"But I must speak to him--I must! Surely there is some extreme measurethat would bring him to his senses!"

"But, excuse me; you see, Miss, Mr. Harper is a reg'lar guest of thehotel, and I wouldn't dare go to extremes. If I was to make himmad----"

"I'll take all the blame!" she cried. "And afterward he'll thank youfor it!"

The bartender scratched his thin hair. 

"Of course, I want to help you, Miss, and since you put it that way, all right. You say I can go the limit?"

"Yes! Yes!"

The bartender retired behind his bar and returned with a pail ofwater. He removed the young editor's hat. 

"Stand back, Miss; it's ice cold, " he said; and with a swing of hispudgy arms he sent the water about Harper's head, neck, and upperbody. 

The young fellow staggered up with a gasping cry. His blinking eyessaw the bartender, with the empty pail. He reached for the tumblerbefore him. 

"Damn you, Murphy!" he growled. "I'll pay you----"

But Katherine stepped quickly forward and touched his dripping sleeve. 

"Mr. Harper!" she said. 

He slowly turned his head. Then the hand with the upraised tumblersank to the table, and he stared at her. 

"Mr. Harper, " she said sharply, slowly, trying to drive her words intohis dulled brain, "I've got to speak to you! At once!"

He continued to blink at her stupidly. At length his lips opened. 

"Miss West, " he said thickly. 

She shook him fiercely. 

"Pull yourself together! I've got to speak to you!"

At this moment Mr. Murphy, who had gone once more behind his bar, reappeared bearing a glass. This he held out to Harper. 

"Here, Billy, put this down. It'll help straighten you up. "

Harper took the glass in a trembling hand and swallowed its contents. 

"And now, Miss, " said the bartender, putting Harper's dry hat on him, "the thing to do is to get him out in the cold air, and walk him rounda bit. I'd do it for you myself, " he added gallantly, "but everybody'sdown at the Square and there ain't no one here to relieve me. "

"Thank you very much, Mr. Murphy. "

"It's nothing at all, Miss, " said he with a grandiloquent gesture of ahairy, bediamonded hand. "Glad to do it. "

She slipped her arm through the young editor's. 

"And now, Mr. Harper, we must go. "

Billy Harper vaguely understood the situation and there was a trace ofawakening shame in his husky voice. 

"Are you sure--you want to be seen with me--like this?"

"I must, whether I want to or not, " she said briefly; and she led himthrough the side door out into the frosty night. 

The period that succeeded will ever remain in Katherine's mind asmatchless in her life for agonized suspense. She was ever crying outfrantically to herself, why did this man she led have to be in such acondition at this the time when he was needed most? While she rapidlywalked her drenched and shivering charge through the deserted backstreets, the enthusiasm of Court House Square reverberated maddeninglyin her ears. She realized how rapidly time was flying--and yet, aflamewith desire for action as she was, all she could do was to lead thisbrilliant, stupefied creature to and fro, to and fro. She wondered ifshe would be able to bring him to his senses in time to be of service. To her impatience, which made an hour of every moment, it seemed shenever would. But her hope was all on him, and so doggedly she kept himgoing. 

Presently he began to lurch against her less heavily and lessfrequently; and soon, his head hanging low in humiliation, he startedshiveringly to mumble out an abject apology. She cut him short. 

"We've no time for apologies. There's work to be done. Is your headclear enough to understand?"

"I think so, " he said humbly, albeit somewhat thickly. 

"Listen then! And listen hard!"

Briefly and clearly she outlined to him her discoveries and told himof the documents she had just secured. She did not realize it, butthis recital of hers was, for the purpose of sobering him, better farthan a douche of ice-water, better far than walking in the tinglingair. She was appealing to, stimulating, the most sensitive organ ofthe born newspaper man, his sense of news. Before she was through hehad come to a pause beneath a sputtering arc light, and wasinterrupting her with short questions, his eyes ablaze withexcitement. 

"God!" he ejaculated when she had finished, "that would make thegreatest newspaper story that ever broke loose in this town!"

She trembled with an excitement equal to his own. 

"And I want you to make it into the greatest newspaper story that everbroke loose in this town!"

"But to-morrow the voting----"

"There's no to-morrow about it! We've got to act to-night. You mustget out an extra of the _Express_. "

"An extra of the _Express_!"

"Yes. And it must be on the streets before that mass-meeting breaksup. "

"Oh, my God, my God!" Billy whispered in awe to himself, forgettinghow cold he was as his mind took in the plan. Then he started awayalmost on a run. "We'll do it! But first, we've got to get thepress-room gang. "

"I've seen to that. I think we'll find them waiting at the office. "

"You don't say!" ejaculated Billy. "Miss West, to-morrow, when there'smore time, I'm going to apologize to you, and everybody, for----"

"If you get out this extra, you won't need to apologize to anybody. "

"But to-night, if you'll let me, " continued Billy, "I want you to letme say that you're a wonder!"

Katherine let this praise go by unheeded, and as they hurried towardthe Square she gave him details she had omitted in her outline. Whenthey reached the _Express_ office they found Old Hosie, who told themthat the foreman and the mechanical staff were in the press-room. Ashout from Billy down the stairway brought the foreman running up. 

"Do you know what's doing, Jake?" cried Billy. 

"Yes. Mr. Hollingsworth told me. "

"Everything ready?"

"Sure, Billy. We're waiting for your copy. "

"Good! First of all get these engraved. " He excitedly handed theforeman Katherine's two documents. "Each of 'em three columns wide. We'll run 'em on the front page. And, Jake, if you let those get lost, I'll shoot you so full of holes your wife'll think she's married to ascreen door! Now chase along with you!"

Billy threw off his drenched coat, slipped into an old one hanging ona hook, dropped into a chair before a typewriter, ran in a sheet ofpaper, and without an instant's hesitation began to rattle off thestory--and Katherine, in a sort of fascination, stood gazing at thatworth-while spectacle, a first-class newspaperman in full action. 

But suddenly he gave a cry of dismay and his arms fell to his sides. 

"My mind sees the story all right, " he groaned. "I don't know whetherit's that ice-water or the drink, but my arms are so shaky I can't hitthe keys straight. "

On the instant Katherine had him out of the chair and was in hisplace. 

"I studied typewriting along with my law, " she said rapidly. "Dictateit to me on the machine. "

There was not a word of comment. At once Billy began talking, and thekeys began to whir beneath Katherine's hands. The first page finished, Billy snatched it from her, gave a roar of "Copy!" glanced it throughwith a correcting pencil, and thrust it into the hands of anin-rushing boy. 

As the boy scuttled away, a thunderous cheering arose from the CourtHouse yard--applause that outsounded a dozen-fold all that had gonebefore. 

"What's that?" asked Katherine of Old Hosie, who stood at the windowlooking down upon the Square. 

"It's Blake, trying to speak. They're giving him the ovation of hislife!"

Katherine's face set. "H'm!" said Billy grimly, and plunged again intohis dictation. Now and then the uproar that followed a happy phrase ofBlake almost drowned the voice of Billy, now and then Old Hosie fromhis post at the window broke in with a sentence of description of thetumultuous scene without; but despite these interruptions the storyrattled swiftly on. Again and again Billy ran to the sink at the backof the office and let the clearing water splash over his head; hiscollar was a shapeless rag; he had to keep thrusting his dripping hairback from his forehead; his slight, chilled body was shivering inevery member; but the story kept coming, coming, coming, a living, throbbing creation from his thin and twitching lips. 

As Katherine's flying hands set down the words, she thrilled as thoughthis story were a thing entirely new to her. For Billy Harper, whatever faults inheritance or habit had fixed upon him, was areporter straight from God. His trained mind had instantly seized uponand mastered all the dramatic values of the complicated story, and hisEnglish, though crude and rough-and-tumble from his haste, was vividpassionate, rousing. He told how Doctor West was the victim of a plot, a plot whose great victim was the city and people of Westville, andthis plot he outlined in all its details. He told of Doctor Sherman'spart, at Blake's compulsion. He told of the secret league betweenBlake and Peck. He declared the truth of the charges for which Brucewas then lying in the county jail. And finally--though this he did atthe beginning of his story--he drove home in his most nerve-twangingwords the fact that Blake the benefactor, Blake the applauded, was thedirect cause of the typhoid epidemic. 

As a fresh sheet was being run into the machine toward the end of thestory there was another tremendous outburst from the Square, surpassing even the one of half an hour before. 

"Blake's just finished his speech, " called Old Hosie from the window. "The crowd wants to carry him on their shoulders. "

"They'd better hurry up; this is one of their last chances!" criedBilly. 

Then he saw the foreman enter with a look of concern. "Any thingwrong, Jake?"

"One of the linotype men has skipped out, " was the answer. 

"Well, what of that?" said Harper. "You've got one left. "

"It means that we'll be delayed in getting out the paper. I hadn'tnoticed it before, but Grant's been gone some time. We're quite a bitbehind you, and Simmons alone can't begin to handle that copy as fastas you're sending it down. "

"Do the best you can, " said Billy. 

He started at the dictation again. Then he broke off and calledsharply to the foreman:

"Hold on, Jake. D'you suppose Grant slipped out to give the storyaway?"

"I don't know. But Grant was a Blake man. "

Billy swore under his breath. 

"But he hadn't seen the best part of the story, " said the foreman. "I'd given him only that part about Blake and Peck. "

"Well, anyhow, it's too late for him to hurt us any, " said Billy, andonce more plunged into the dictation. 

Fifteen minutes later the story was finished, and Katherine leanedback in her chair with aching arms, while Billy wrote a lurid headlineacross the entire front page. With this he rushed down into thecomposing-room to give orders about the make-up. When he returned hecarried a bunch of long strips. 

"These are the proofs of the whole thing, documents and all, exceptthe last part of the story, " he said. "Let's see if they've got it allstraight. "

He laid the proofs on Katherine's desk and was drawing a chair upbeside her, when the telephone rang. 

"Who can want to talk to us at such an hour?" he impatientlyexclaimed, taking up the receiver. 

"Hello! Who's this?. .. What!. .. All right. Hold the wire. "

With a surprised look he pushed the telephone toward Katherine. 

"Somebody to talk to you, " he said. 

"To talk to me!" exclaimed Katherine. "Who?"

"Harrison Blake, " said Billy. 

CHAPTER XXV

KATHERINE FACES THE ENEMY

Katherine took up the receiver in tremulous hands. 

"Hello! Is this Mr. Blake?"

"Yes, " came a familiar voice over the wire. "Is this Miss West?"

"Yes. What is it?"

"I have a matter which I wish to discuss with you immediately. "

"I am engaged for this evening, " she returned, as calmly as she could. "If to-morrow you still desire to see me, I can possibly arrange itthen. "

"I must see you to-night--at once!" he insisted. "It is a matter ofthe utmost importance. Not so much to me as to you, " he addedmeaningly. 

"If it is so important, then suppose you come here, " she replied. 

"I cannot possibly do so. I am bound here by a number of affairs. Ihave anticipated that you would come, and have sent my car for you. Itwill be there in two minutes. "

Katherine put her hand over the mouthpiece, and repeated Blake'srequest to Old Hosie and Billy Harper. 

"What shall I do?" she asked. 

"Tell him to go to!" said Billy promptly. "You've got him where youwant him. Don't pay any more attention to him. "

"I'd like to know what he's up to, " mused Old Hosie. 

"And so would I, " agreed Katherine, thoughtfully. "I can't do anythingmore here; he can't hurt me; so I guess I'll go. "

She removed her hand from the mouthpiece and leaned toward it. 

"Where are you, Mr. Blake?"

"At my home. "

"Very well. I am coming. "

She stood up. 

"Will you come with me?" she asked Old Hosie. 

"Of course, " said the old lawyer with alacrity. And then he chuckled. "I'd like to see how the Senator looks to-night!"

"I'll just take these proofs along, " she said, thrusting them insideher coat. 

The next instant she and Old Hosie were hurrying down the stairway. Asthey came into the street the Westville Brass Band blew the last notesof "Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean, " out of cornets and trombones;the great crowd, intoxicated with enthusiasm, responded withpalm-blistering applause; and then the candidate for president of thecity council arose to make his oratorical contribution. He had got nofurther than his first period when Blake's automobile glided up beforethe _Express_ office, and at once Katherine and Old Hosie stepped intothe tonneau. 

They sped away from this maelstrom of excitement into the quietresidential streets, Katherine wondering what Blake desired to see herabout, and wondering if there could possibly be some flaw in her planthat she had overlooked, and if after all Blake still had some weaponin reserve with which he could defeat her. Five minutes later theywere at Blake's door. They were instantly admitted, and Katherine wasinformed that Blake awaited her in his library. 

She had had no idea in what state of mind she would find Blake, butshe had at least expected to find him alone. But instead, when sheentered the library with Old Hosie, a small assembly rose to greether. There was Blake, Blind Charlie Peck, Manning, and back in ashadowy corner a rather rotund gentleman, whom she had observed inWestville the last few days, and whom she knew to be Mr. Brown of theNational Electric & Water Company. 

Blake's face was pale and set, and his dark eyes gleamed with anunusual brilliance. But in his compressed features Katherine couldread nothing of what was in his mind. 

"Good evening, " he said with cold politeness. 

"Will you please sit down, Miss West. And you also, Mr. Hollingsworth. "

Katherine thanked him with a nod, and seated herself. She found herchair so placed that she was the centre of the gaze of the littleassembly. 

"I take it for granted, Miss West, " Blake began steadily, formally, "that you are aware of the reason for my requesting you to come here. "

"On the other hand, I must confess myself entirely ignorant, "Katherine quietly returned. 

"Pardon me if I am forced to believe otherwise. But nevertheless, Iwill explain. It has come to me that you are now engaged in gettingout an issue of the _Express_, in which you charge that Mr. Peck andmyself are secretly in collusion to defraud the city. Is thatcorrect?"

"Entirely so, " said Katherine. 

She felt full command of herself, yet every instant she was strainingto peer ahead and discover, before it fell, the suspectedcounter-stroke. 

"Before going further, " Blake continued, "I will say that Mr. Peck andI, though personal and political enemies, must join forces againstsuch a libel directed at us both. This will explain Mr. Peck'spresence in my house for the first time in his life. Now, to resumeour business. What you are about to publish is a libel. It is for yoursake, chiefly, that I have asked you here. "

"For my sake?"

"For your sake. To warn you, if you are not already aware of it, ofthe danger you are plunging into headlong. But surely you areacquainted with our libel laws. "

"I am. "

His face, aside from its cold, set look, was still without expression;his voice was low-pitched and steady. 

"Then of course you understand your risk, " he continued. "You have hada mild illustration of the working of the law in the case of Mr. Bruce. But the case against him was not really pressed. The courtmight not deal so leniently with you. I believe you get my meaning?"

"Perfectly, " said Katherine. 

There was a silence. Katherine was determined not to speak first, butto force Blake to take the lead. 

"Well?" said he. 

"I was waiting to hear what else you had to say, " she replied. 

"Well, you are aware that what you purpose printing is a mostdangerous libel?"

"I am aware that you seem to think it so. "

"There is no thinking about it; it _is_ libel!" he returned. For thefirst time there was a little sharpness in his voice. "And now, whatare you going to do?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Suppress the paper. "

"Is that advice, or a wish, or a command?"

"Suppose I say all three. "

Her eyes did not leave his pale, intent face. She was instantly morecertain that he had some weapon in reserve. But still she failed toguess what it might be. 

"Well, what are you going to do?" he repeated. 

"I am going to print the paper, " said Katherine. 

An instant of stupefied silence followed her quiet answer. 

"You are, are you?" cried Blind Charlie, springing up. "Well, letme----"

"Sit down, Peck!" Blake ordered sharply

"Come, give me a chance at her!"

"Sit down! I'm handling this!" Blake cried with sudden harshness. 

"Well, then, show her where she's at!" grumbled Blind Charlie, subsiding into his chair. 

Blake turned back to Katherine. His face was again impassive. 

"And so it is your intention to commit this monstrous libel?" heasked in his former composed tone. 

"Perhaps it is not libel, " said Katherine. 

"You mean that you think you have proofs?"

"No. That is not my meaning. "

"What then do you mean?"

"I mean that I _have_ proofs. "

"Ah, at last we are coming to the crux of the matter. Since you haveproofs for your statements, you think there is no libel?"

"I believe that is sound law, " said Katherine. 

"It is sound enough law, " he said. He leaned toward her, and there wasnow the glint of triumph in his eyes. "But suppose the proofs were notsound?"

Katherine started. 

"The proofs not sound?"

"Yes. I suppose your article is based upon testimony?"

"Of course. "

His next words were spoken slowly, that each might sink deeply in. 

"Well, suppose your witnesses had found they were mistaken and hadrepudiated their testimony? What then?"

She sank back in her chair. At last the expected blow had fallen. Shesat dazed, thinking wildly. Had they got to Doctor Sherman since shehad seen him, and forced him to recant? Had Manning, offered the worldby them in this crisis, somehow sold her out? She searched thelatter's face with consternation. But he wore a rather stolid lookthat told her nothing. 

Blake read the effect of his words in her white face and dismayedmanner. 

"Suppose they have repudiated their statements? What then?" hecrushingly persisted. 

She caught desperately at her courage and her vanishing triumph. 

"But they have not repudiated. "

"You think not? You shall see!"

He turned to Blind Charlie. "Tell him to step in. "

Blind Charlie moved quickly to a side door. Katherine leaned forwardand stared after him, breathless, her heart stilled. She expected thefollowing moment to see the slender figure of Doctor Sherman enter theroom, and hear his pallid lips deny he had ever made the confession ofa few hours before. 

Blind Charlie opened the door. 

"They're ready for you, " he called. 

It was all Katherine could do to keep from springing up and lettingout a sob of relief. For it was not Doctor Sherman who entered. It wasthe broad and sumptuous presence of Elijah Stone, detective. Hecrossed and stood before Blake. 

"Mr. Stone, " said Blake, sharply, "I want you to answer a fewquestions for the benefit of Miss West. First of all, you wereemployed by Miss West on a piece of detective work, were you not?"

"I was, " said Mr. Stone, avoiding Katherine's eye. 

"And the nature of your employment was to try to discover evidence ofan alleged conspiracy against the city on my part?"

"It was. "

"And you made to her certain reports?"

"I did. "

"Let me inform you that she has used those reports as the basis of alibellous story which she is about to print. Now answer me, did yougive her any real evidence that would stand the test of a court room?"

Mr. Stone gazed at the ceiling. 

"My statements to her were mere surmises, " he said with the glibnessof a rehearsed answer. "Nothing but conjecture--no evidence at all. "

"What is your present belief concerning these conjectures?"

"I have since discovered that my conjectures were all mistakes. "

"That will do, Mr. Stone!"

Blake turned quickly upon Katherine. "Well, now what have you got tosay?" he demanded. 

She could have laughed in her joy. 

"First of all, " she called to the withdrawing detective, "I have thisto say to you, Mr. Stone. When you sold out to these people, I hopeyou made them pay you well. "

The detective flushed, but he had no chance to reply. 

"This is no time for levity, Miss West!" Blake said sharply. "Now yousee your predicament. Now you see what sort of testimony your libel isbuilt upon. "

"But my libel is not built upon that testimony. "

"Not built----" He now first observed that Katherine was smiling. "What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. That my story is not based on Mr. Stone'stestimony. "

There were exclamations from Mr. Brown and Blind Charlie. 

"Eh--what?" said Blake. "But you hired Stone as a detective?"

"And he was eminently successful in carrying out the purpose for whichI hired him. That purpose was to be watched, and bought off, by you. "

Blake sank back and stared at her. 

"Then your story is based----"

"Partly on the testimony of Doctor Sherman, " she said. 

Blake came slowly up to his feet. 

"Doctor Sherman?" he breathed. 

"Yes, of Doctor Sherman. "

Blind Charlie moved quickly forward. 

"What's that?" he cried. 

"It's not true!" burst from Blake's lips. "Doctor Sherman is inCanada!"

"When I saw him two hours ago he was at his wife's bedside. "

"It's not true!" Blake huskily repeated. 

"And I might add, Mr. Blake, " Katherine pursued, "that he made a fullstatement of everything--everything!--and that he gave me a signedconfession. "

Blake stared at her blankly. A sickly pallor was creeping over hisface. 

Katherine stood up. 

"And I might furthermore add, gentlemen, " she went on, now alsoaddressing Blind Charlie, "that I know all about the water-works deal, and the secret agreement among you. "

"Hold on! You're going too far!" the old politician cried savagely. "You've got no evidence against me!"

"I could hardly help having it, since I was present at yourproceedings. "

"You?"

"Personally and by proxy. I am the agent of Mr. Seymour of New York. Mr. Hartsell here, otherwise Mr. Manning, has represented me, and hasturned over to me the agreement you signed to-day. "

They whirled about upon Manning, who continued unperturbed in hischair. 

"What she says is straight, gentlemen, " he said. "I have only beenacting for Miss West. "

A horrible curse fell from the thick, loose lips of Blind CharliePeck. Blake, his sickly pallor deepening, stared from Manning toKatherine. 

"It isn't so! It can't be so!" he breathed wildly. 

"If you want to see just what I've got, here it is, " said Katherine, and she tossed the bundle of proofs upon the desk. 

Blake seized the sheets in feverish hands. Blind Charlie stepped tohis side, and Mr. Brown slipped forward out of his corner and peeredover their shoulders. First they saw the two facsimiles, then theireyes swept in the leading points of Billy Harper's fiery story. Then alow cry escaped from Blake. He had come upon Billy Harper's greatpage-wide headline:

 "BLAKE CONSPIRES TO SWINDLE WESTVILLE; DIRECT CAUSE OF CITY'S SICK AND DEAD. "

At that Blake collapsed into his chair and gazed with ashen face atthe black, accusing letters. This relentless summary of the situationappalled them all into a moment's silence. 

Blind Charlie was the first to speak. 

"That paper must never come out!" he shouted. 

Blake raised his gray-hued face. 

"How are you going to stop it?"

"Here's how, " cried Peck, his one eye ablaze with fierce energy. "Thatcrowd at the Square is still all for you, Blake. Don't let the girlout of the house! I'll rush to the Square, rouse the mob properly, andthey'll raid the office, rip up the presses, plates, paper, everydamned thing!"

"No--no--I'll not stand for that!" Blake burst out. 

But Blind Charlie had already started quickly away. Not so quickly, however, but that the very sufficient hand of Manning was about hiswrist before he reached the door. 

"I guess we won't be doing that to-night, Mr. Peck, " Manning saidquietly. 

The old politician stood shaking with rage and erupting profanity. Butpresently this subsided, and he stood, as did the others, gazing downat Blake. Blake sat in his chair, silent, motionless, with scarcely abreath, his eyes fixed on the headline. His look was as ghastly as adead man's, a look of utter ruin, of ruin so terrible and completethat his dazed mind could hardly comprehend it. 

There was a space of profound silence in the room. But after a timeBlind Charlie's face grew malignantly, revengefully jocose. 

"Well, Blake, " said he, "I guess this won't hurt me much after all. Iguess I haven't much reputation to lose. But as for you, who startedthis business--you the pure, moral, high-minded reformer----"

He interrupted himself by raising a hand. 

"Listen!"

Faintly, from the direction of the Square, came the dim roar ofcheering, and then the outburst of the band. Blind Charlie, with acynical laugh, clapped a hand upon Blake's shoulder. 

"Don't you hear 'em, Blake? Brace up! The people still are for you!"

Blake did not reply. The old man bent down, his face now wholly hard. 

"And anyhow, Blake, I'm getting this satisfaction out of the business. I've had it in for you for a dozen years, and now you're going to getit good and plenty! Good night and to hell with you!"

Blake did not look up. Manning slipped an arm through the old man's. 

"I'll go along with you for a little while, " said Manning quietly. "Just to see that you don't start any trouble. "

As the pair were going out Mr. Brown, who had thus far not said asingle word, bent his fatherly figure over Blake. 

"Of course, you realize, Mr. Blake, that our relations are necessarilyat an end, " he said in a low voice. 

"Of course, " Blake said dully. 

"I'm very sorry we cannot help you, but of course you realize wecannot afford to be involved in a mess like this. Good night. " And hefollowed the others out, Old Hosie behind him. 

For a space Katherine stood alone, gazing down upon Blake's bowed andsilent figure. Now that it was all over, now that his allies had alldeserted him, to see this man whom she had known as so proud, sostrong, so admired, with such a boundless future--who had once beenher own ideal of a great man--who had once declared himself herlover--to see this man now brought so low, stirred in her a strangeemotion, in which there was something of pity, something of sympathy, and a tugging remembrance of the love he long ago had offered. 

But the noise of the front door closing upon the men recalled her toherself, and very softly, so as not to disturb him, she started away. Her hand was on the knob, when there sounded a dry and husky voicefrom behind her. 

"Wait, Katherine! Wait!"

CHAPTER XXVI

AN IDOL'S FALL

She turned. Blake had risen from his chair. 

"What is it?" she asked. 

He came up to her, the proofs still in his hands. He was unsteady uponhis feet, like a man dizzy from a heavy blow. The face which she hadbeen accustomed to see only as full of poise and strength and dignitywas now supremely haggard. When he spoke he spoke in uttermostdespair--huskily, chokingly, yet with an effort at control. 

"Do you know what this is going to do to me?" he asked, holding outthe proof-sheets. 

"Yes, " she said. 

"It is going to ruin me--reputation, fortune, future! Everything!"

She did not answer him. 

"Yes, that is going to be the result, " he continued in his slow, huskyvoice. "Only one thing can save me. "

"And that?"

He stared at her for a moment with wildly burning eyes. Then he wethis dry lips. 

"That is for you to countermand this extra. "

"You ask me to do that?"

"It is my only chance. I do. "

"I believe you are out of your mind!" she cried. 

"I believe I am!" he said hoarsely. 

"Think just a moment, and you will see that what you ask is quiteimpossible. Just think a moment. "

He was silent for a time. A tremor ran through him, his bodystiffened. 

"No, I do not ask it, " he said. "I am not trying to excuse myself now, but when a thing falls so unexpectedly, so suddenly----" A choking atthe throat stopped him. "If I have seemed to whimper, I take it back. You have beaten me, Katherine. But I hope I can take defeat like aman. "

She did not answer. 

They continued gazing at one another. In the silence of the greathouse they could hear each other's agitated breathing. Into his darkface, now turned so gray, there crept a strange, drawn look--a lookthat sent a tingling through all her body. 

"What is it?" she asked. 

"To think, " he exclaimed in a low, far-away voice, almost to himself, "that I have lost everything through you! Through you, through whom Imight have gained everything!"

"Gained everything? Through me?" she repeated. "How?"

"I am sure I would have kept out of such things--as this--if, fiveyears ago, you had said 'yes' instead of 'no'. "

"Said yes?" she breathed. 

"I think you would have kept me in the straight road. For I would nothave dared to fall below your standards. For I"--he drew a deep, convulsive breath--"for I loved you, Katherine, better than anythingin all the world!"

She trembled at the intensity of his voice. 

"You loved me--like that?"

"Yes. And since I have lost you, and lost everything, there is perhapsno harm in my telling you something else. Only on that one night did Iopen my lips about love to you--but I have loved you through all theyears since then. And . .. And I still love you. "

"You still love me?" she whispered. 

"I still love you. "

She stared at him. 

"And yet all these months you have fought against me!"

"I have not fought against _you_, " he said. "Somehow, I got startedin this way, and I have fought to win--have fought against exposure, against defeat. "

"And you still love me?" she murmured, still amazed. 

As she gazed at him there shot into her a poignant pang of pity forthis splendid figure, tottering on the edge of the abyss. For aninstant she thought only of him. 

"You asked me a moment ago to suppress the paper, " she criedimpulsively. "Shall I do it?"

"I now ask nothing, " said he. 

"No--no--I can't suppress the paper!" she said in anguish. "That wouldbe to leave father disgraced, and Mr. Bruce disgraced, and thecity----But what are you going to do?"

"I do not know. This has come so suddenly. I have had no time tothink. "

"You must at least have time to think! If you had an hour--two hours?"

There was a momentary flash of hope in his eyes. 

"If I had an hour----"

"Then we'll delay the paper!" she cried. 

She sprang excitedly to the telephone upon Blake's desk. The nextinstant she had Billy Harper on the wire, Blake watching her, motionless in his tracks. 

"Mr. Harper, " she said, "it is now half-past ten. I want you to holdthe paper back till eleven-thirty. .. . What's that?"

She listened for a moment, then slowly hung up the receiver. She didnot at once turn round, but when she did her face was very white. 

"Well?" Blake asked. 

"I'm sorry, " she said, barely above a whisper. "The paper has beenupon the street for ten minutes. "

They gazed at one another for several moments, both motionless, bothwithout a word. Then thin, sharp cries penetrated the room. Blake'slips parted. 

"What is that?" he asked mechanically. 

Katherine crossed and raised a window. Through it came shrill, boyishvoices:

"Extry! Extry! All about the great Blake conspiracy!"

These avant couriers of Blake's disgrace sped onward down the avenue. Katherine turned slowly back to Blake. He still stood in the sameposture, leaning heavily upon an arm that rested on his mahogany desk. He did not speak. Nor was there anything that Katherine could say. 

It was for but a moment or two that they stood in this strainedsilence. Then a dim outcry sounded from the centre of the town. Inbut a second, it seemed, this outcry had mounted to a roar. 

"It is the crowd--at the Square, " said Blake, in a dry whisper. 

"Yes. "

"The extra--they have seen it. "

The roar rose louder--louder. It was like the thunder of an on-rushingflood that has burst its dam. It began to separate into distinctcries, and the shuffle of running feet. 

"They are coming this way, " said Blake in his same dry, mechanicaltone. 

There was no need for Katherine to reply. The fact was too apparent. She moved to the open window, and stood there waiting. The roar grewnearer--nearer. In but a moment, it seemed to her, the front of thishuman flood appeared just beyond her own house. The next moment thecrowd began to pour into Blake's wide lawn--by the hundreds--by thethousands. Many of them still carried in clenched hands crumpledcopies of the _Express_. Here and there, luridly illuminating the wildscene, blazed a smoking torch of a member of the Blake Marching Club. And out of the mouths of this great mob, which less than a short hourbefore had lauded him to the stars--out of the mouths of these hiserewhile idolaters, came the most fearful imprecations, the mostfearful cries for vengeance. 

Katherine became aware that Blake was standing behind her gazing downupon this human storm. She turned, and in his pallid face she plainlyread the passionate regret that was surging through his being. His hadbeen the chance to serve these people, and serve them with honour tohimself--honour that hardly had a limit. And now he had lost them, lost them utterly and forever, and with them had lost everything!

Some one below saw his face at the window and swore shriekingly tohave his life. Blake drew quickly back and stood again beside hisdesk. He was white--living flesh could not be more white--but he stillmaintained that calm control which had succeeded his first desperateconsternation. 

"What are you going to do?" Katherine asked. 

He very quietly drew out a drawer of his desk and picked up a pistol. 

"What!" she cried. "You are not going to fight them off!"

"No. I have injured enough of them already, " he replied in hismeasured tone. "Keep all this from my mother as long as you can--atleast till she is stronger. "

As she saw his intention Katherine sprang forward and caught theweapon he was turning upon himself. 

"No! No! You must not do that!"

"But I must, " he returned quietly. "Listen!"

The cries without had grown more violent. The heavy front door wasresounding with blows. 

"Don't you see that this is the only thing that's left?" he asked. 

"And don't you see, " she said rapidly, "its effect upon your mother?In her weakened condition, your death will be her death. You just saidyou had injured enough already. Do you want to kill one more? Andbesides, and in spite of all, " she added with a sudden fire, "there'sa big man in you! Face it like that man!"

He hesitated. Then he relaxed his hold upon the pistol, still withoutspeaking. Katherine returned it to its place and closed the drawer. 

At this instant Old Hosie, who had been awaiting Katherine below, rushed excitedly into the library. 

"Don't you know hell's broke loose?" he cried to Katherine. "They'llhave that front door down in a minute! Come on!"

But Katherine could not take her gaze from Blake's pale, set face. 

"What are you going to do?" she asked again. 

"What is he going to do?" exclaimed Old Hosie. "Better ask what thatmob is going to do. Listen to them!"

A raging cry for Blake's life ascended, almost deafening their ears. 

"No, no--they must not do that!" exclaimed Katherine, and breathlesslyshe darted from the room. 

Old Hosie looked grimly at Blake. 

"You deserve it, Blake. But I'm against mob law. Quick, slip out theback way. You can just catch the eleven o'clock express and get out ofthe State. "

Without waiting to see the effect of his advice Old Hosie hurriedafter Katherine. She had reached the bottom of the stairway just ascooperated shoulders crashed against the door and made it shiver onits hinges. Her intention was to go out and speak to the crowd, but toopen the front door was to admit and be overwhelmed by the maddenedmob. She knew the house almost as well as she knew her own, and sherecalled that the dining-room had a French window which opened uponthe piazza on the side away from the crowd. She ran back through thedarkened rooms, swung open this window and ran about the piazza to thefront door. As she reached it, the human battering-ram drew back foranother infuriated lunge. 

She sprang between the men and the door. 

"Stop! Stop!" she cried. 

"What the hell's this!" ejaculated the leader of the assault. 

"Say, if it ain't a woman!" cried a member of the battering-ram. 

"Out of the way with you!" roared the leader in a fury. 

But she placed her back against the door. 

"Stop--men! Give me just one word!"

"Better stop this, boys!" gasped a man at the foot of the steps, struggling in half a dozen pairs of arms. "I warn you! It's againstthe law!"

"Shut up, Jim Nichols; this is our business!" cried the leader to thehelpless sheriff. "And now, you"--turning again to Katherine--"out ofthe way!"

The seething, torch-lit mob on the lawn below repeated his cry. Theleader, his wrath increasing, seized Katherine roughly by the arm andjerked her aside:

"Now, all together, boys!" he shouted. 

But at that instant upon the front of the mob there fell a tall, leanfury with a raging voice and a furiously swinging cane. It was OldHosie. Before this fierce chastisement, falling so suddenly upon theirheads, the battering-ram for a moment pressed backward. 

"You fools! You idiots!" the old man cried, and his high, sharp voicecut through all the noises of the mob. "Is that the way you treat thewoman that saved you!"

"Saved us?" some one shouted incredulously. "Her save us?"

"Yes, saved you!" Old Hosie cried in a rising voice down upon theheads of the crowd. His cane had ceased its flailing; the crowd hadpartially ceased its uproar. "Do you know who that woman is? She'sKatherine West!"

"Oh, the lady lawyer!" rose several jeering voices. 

For the moment Old Hosie's tall figure, with his cane outstretched, had the wrathful majesty of a prophet of old, denouncing his foolishand reprobate people. 

"Go on, all of you, laugh at her to-night!" he shouted. "But afterto-night you'll all slink around Westville, ashamed to look anythingin the face higher than a dog! For half a year you've been sneering atKatherine West. And see how she's paid you back! It was she that foundout your enemy. It was she that dug up all the facts and evidenceyou've read in those papers there. It was she that's saved you frombeing robbed. And now----"

"She done all that?" exclaimed a voice from the now stilled mob. 

"Yes, she done all that!" shouted Old Hosie. "And what's more, she gotout that paper in your hands. While you've been sneering at her, she'sbeen working for you. And now, after all this, you're not even willingto listen to a word from her!" His voice rose in its contemptuouswrath still one note higher. "And now listen to me! I'm going to tellyou exactly what you are! You are all----"

But Westville never learned exactly what it was. Just then Old Hosiewas firmly pulled back by the tails of his Prince Albert coat andfound himself in the possession of the panting, dishevelled sheriff ofGalloway County. 

"You've made your point, Hosie, " said Jim Nichols. "They'll listen toher now. "

Katherine stepped forward into the space Old Hosie had involuntarilyvacated. With the torchlights flaring up into her face she stood therebreathing deeply, awed into momentary silence by the great crowd andby the responsibility that weighed upon her. 

"If, as Mr. Hollingsworth has said, " she began in a tremulous butclear voice that carried to the farthest confines of the lawn, "youowe me anything, all I ask in return is that you refrain from mobviolence;" and she went on to urge upon them the lawful course. Thecrowd, taken aback by the accusations and revelations Old Hosie hadflung so hotly into their faces, strangely held by her impassionedwoman's figure pedestalled above them on the porch, listened to herwith an attention and respect which they as yet were far fromunderstanding. 

She felt that she had won her audience, that she had turned themback to lawful measures, when suddenly there was a roar of "Blake!Blake!"--the stilled crowd became again a mob--and she saw that thefocus of their gaze had shifted from her to a point behind her. Looking about, she saw that the door had opened, and that Blake, pale and erect, was standing in the doorway. The crowd tried tosurge forward, but the front ranks, out of their new and buthalf-comprehended respect for Katherine, stood like a wall against thecharge that would have overwhelmed her. 

Blake moved forward to her side. 

"I should like to speak to them, if I can, " he said quietly. 

Katherine held up her hand for silence. The mob hissed and cursed him, and tried to break through the human fortification of the front ranks. Through it all Blake stood silent, pale, without motion. Katherine, her hand still upraised, continued to cry out for silence; and after atime the uproar began in a measure to diminish. 

Katherine took quick advantage of the lull. 

"Gentlemen, " she called out, "won't you please give Mr. Blake just aword!"

Cries that they should give him a chance to speak ran throughthe crowd, and thus abjured by its own members the mob quietedyet further. While they were subsiding into order Blake lookedsteadily out upon this sea of hostile faces. Katherine watched himbreathlessly, wondering what he was about to say. It swept in uponher, with a sudden catching of the throat, that he made a fine figurestanding there so straight, so white, with so little sign of fear; anddespite what the man had done, again some of her old admiration forhim thrilled through her, and with it an infinite pang of regret forwhat he might have been. 

At length there was moderate order, and Blake began to speak. "Gentlemen, I do not wish to plead for myself, " he said quietly, yetin his far-carrying voice. "What I have done is beyond yourforgiveness. I merely desire to say that I am guilty; to say that I amhere to give myself into your hands. Do with me as you think best. Ifyou prefer immediate action, I shall go with you without resistance. If you wish to let the law take its course, then"--here he made aslight gesture toward Jim Nichols, who stood beside him--"then I shallgive myself into the hands of the sheriff. I await your choice. "

With that he paused. A perfect hush had fallen on the crowd. This manwho had dominated them in the days of his glory, dominated them for atleast a flickering moment in this the hour of his fall. For that briefmoment all were under the spell of their habit to honour him, thespell of his natural dignity, the spell of his direct words. 

Then the spell was over. The storm broke loose again. There were criesfor immediate action, and counter cries in favour of the law. The twocries battled with each other. For a space there was doubt as to whichwas the stronger. Then that for the law rose louder and louder anddrowned the other out. 

Sheriff Nichols slipped his arm through Blake's. 

"I guess you're going to come with me, " he said. 

"I am ready, " was Blake's response. 

He turned about to Katherine. 

"You deserved to win, " he said quietly. "Thank you. Good-by. "

"Good-by, " said she. 

The sheriff drew him away. Katherine, panting, leaning heavily againsta pillar of the porch, watched the pair go down the steps--watched thegreat crowd part before them--watched them march through this humanalley-way, lighted by smoking campaign torches--watched them till theyhad passed into the darkness in the direction of the jail. Then shedizzily reached out and caught Old Hosie's arm. 

"Help me home, " she said weakly. "I--I feel sick. "

CHAPTER XXVII

THE END OF THE BEGINNING

It was the following night, and the hour was nine. Old Hosie stood inthe sheriff's office in Galloway County jail, while Jim Nicholsscrutinized a formal looking document his visitor had just deliveredinto his hands. 

"It's all right, isn't it?" said the old lawyer. 

"Yep. " The sheriff thrust the paper into a drawer. "I'll fetch himright down. "

"Remember, don't give him a hint!" Old Hosie warned again. "You'resure, " he added anxiously, "he hasn't got on to anything?"

"How many more times have I got to tell you, " returned the sheriff, alittle irritated, "that I ain't said a word to him--just as you toldme! He heard some of the racket last night, sure. But he thought itwas just part of the regular campaign row. "

"All right! All right! Hurry him along then!"

Left alone, Old Hosie walked excitedly up and down the dingy room, whose sole pretension in an æsthetic way was the breeze-blown"yachting girl" of a soap company's calendar, sailing her boundingcraft above the office cuspidor. 

The old man grinned widely, rubbed his bony hands together, and aconcatenation of low chuckles issued from his lean throat. But whenSheriff Nichols reappeared, ushering in Arnold Bruce, all theseoutward manifestations of satisfaction abruptly terminated, and hismanner became his usual dry and sarcastic one with his nephew. 

"Hello, Arn!" he said. "H'are you?"

"Hello!" Bruce returned, rather gruffly, shaking the hand his uncleheld out. "What's this the sheriff has just told me about a newtrial?"

"It's all right, " returned Old Hosie. "We've fought on till we've made'em give it to us. "

"What's the use of it?" Bruce growled. "The cards will be stacked thesame as at the other trial. "

"Well, whatever happens, you're free till then. I've got you out onbail, and I'm here to take you home with me. So come along with you. "

Old Hosie pushed him out and down the jail steps and into a closedcarriage that was waiting at the curb. Bruce was in a glowering, embittered mood, as was but natural in a man who keenly feels that hehas suffered without justice and has lost all for which he fought. 

"You know I appreciate your working for the new trial, " he remarkeddully, as the carriage rattled slowly on. "How did you manage it?"

"It's too long a story for now. I'll tell you when we get home. "

Bruce was gloomily silent for a moment. 

"Of course the Blake crowd swept everything at the election to-day?"

"Well, on the whole, their majority wasn't as big as they'd countedon, " returned Old Hosie. 

They rode on, Bruce sunk in his bitter, rebellious dejection. Thecarriage turned into the street that ran behind the Court House, thenafter rattling over the brick pavement for a few moments came to apause. Hosie opened the door and stepped out. 

"Hello! what are we stopping here for?" demanded Bruce. "This is theCourt House. I thought you said we were going home?"

"So we are, so we are, " Old Hosie rapidly returned, an agitation inhis manner that he could not wholly repress. "But first we've got togo into the Court House. Judge Kellog is waiting for us; there's alittle formality or two about your release we've got to settle withhim. Come along. " And taking his arm Old Hosie hurried him into theCourt House yard, allowing no time for questioning the plausibility ofthis explanation. 

But suddenly Bruce stopped short. 

"Look at that, won't you!" he cried in amazement. "See how the frontof the yard is lighted up, and see how it's jammed with people! Andthere goes the band! What the dickens----"

At that moment some one on the outskirts of the crowd sighted thepair. "There's Bruce!" he shouted. 

Immediately there was an uproar. "Hurrah for Bruce! Hurrah for Bruce!"yelled the crowd, and began to rush to the rear of the yard, cheeringas they ran. 

Bruce gripped Old Hosie's arm. 

"What's this mean?"

"It means we've got to run for it!" And so saying the old man, with asurprising burst of speed left over from his younger years, draggedhis nephew up the walk and through the rear door of the Court House, which he quickly locked upon their clamorous pursuers. 

Bruce stared at his uncle in bewilderment. 

"Hosie--Hosie--what's this mean?"

The old man's leathery face was twitching in a manner remarkable tobehold. 

"Drat it, " he grumbled, with a quaver in his voice, "why don't youread the _Express_ and keep up with the news!"

"What's this mean?" demanded Bruce. 

"Well, here's a copy of your old rag. Read it and see for yourself. "

Bruce seized the _Express_ the old man held out to him. Up in onecorner were the words "_Election Extra_, " and across the top of thepage ran the great headline:

 "BRUCE TICKET SWEEPS CITY"

Bruce looked slowly up, stupefied, and steadied himself with a handagainst the door. 

"Is--is that true?"

"For my part, " declared Old Hosie, the quaver in his voice growingmore prominent, "I don't believe more'n half I see in that dirtysheet!"

"Then--it's true?"

"Don't you hear them wild Indians yelling for Mayor Bruce?"

Bruce was too dazed to speak for a moment. 

"Tell me--how did it happen?"

"Oh, read your old rag and see!"

"For God's sake, Hosie, don't fool with me!" he cried. "How did ithappen? Somebody has been at work. Who did it?"

"Eh! You really want to know that?"

"Yes, yes! Who did it?"

"It was done, " said Old Hosie, looking at him very straight andblinking his eyes, "by a party that I understand you thought couldn'tdo much of anything. "

"But who? Who?"

"If you really want to know, the party's name is Miss Katherine West. "

Bruce's stupefaction outdid itself. 

"Katherine West!" he repeated. 

Old Hosie could maintain his rôle no longer. 

"Yes, Katherine West!" he burst out in triumphant joy, his wordstumbling over one another. "She did it all--every bit of it! And thatmob out in front is there to celebrate your election. We knew howthings were going to turn out, so we were safe in getting this thingready in advance. And I don't mind telling you, young fellow, thatthis celebration is just as much for her as it is for you. The townhas simply gone crazy about her and is looking for a chance to kissher feet. She said she wouldn't come to-night, but we all insisted. Ipromised to bring her, and I've got to be off. So good-by!"

Bruce caught his arm. 

"Wait, Hosie! Tell me what she did! Tell me the rest!"

"Read that paper I gave you! And here, I brought this for you, too. "He took from his inside pocket a copy of the extra Katherine and BillyHarper had got out the night before. "Those two papers will tell youall there is to tell. And now, " he continued, opening a door andpushing Bruce through it, "you just wait in there so I'll know whereto find you when I want you. I've got to hustle for a while, for I'mmaster of ceremonies of this show. How's that for your old uncle? It'sthe first time I've ever been connected with a popular movement in mylife except to throw bricks at it, and I ain't so sure I can standpopularity for one whole night. "

With that he was gone. Bruce recognized the room into which he hadbeen thrust as the court room in which he had been tried andsentenced, in which Katherine had pleaded her father's case. Over thejudge's desk, as though in expectation of his coming, a green-shadeddrop lamp shed its cone of light. Bruce stumbled forward to the desk, sank into the judge's chair, and began feverishly to devour the twocopies of his paper. 

Billy Harper, penitently sober and sworn to sobriety for all his days, had outdone himself on that day's issue. He told how the voterscrowded to the polls in their eagerness to vote for Bruce, and he gavewith a tremendous exultation an estimate of Bruce's majority, whichwas so great as to be an almost unanimous election. Also he told howBlind Charlie Peck had prudently caught last night's eleven o'clockexpress and was now believed to be repairing his health down at HotSprings, Arkansas. Also he gave a deal of inside history: told howthe extra had been gotten out the night before, with the Blakemass-meeting going on beneath the _Express's_ windows; told of thescene at the home of Blake, and Blake's strange march to jail; and, freed from the restraint of Katherine's presence, who would haveforbidden him, he told with a world of praise the story of how she hadworked up the case. 

The election extra finished, Bruce spread open the extra of the nightbefore, the paper that had transferred him from a prison cell to themayor's office, and read the mass of Katherine's evidence that Billyhad so stirringly set forth. Then the head of the editor of the_Express_, of the mayor of Westville, sank forward into his foldedarms and he sat bowed, motionless, upon the judge's desk. 

A great outburst of cheering from the crowd, though louder far thanthose that had preceded it, did not disturb him; and he did not lookup until he heard the door of the court room open. Then he saw thatOld Hosie had entered, and with him Katherine. 

"I'll just leave you two for a minute, " Old Hosie said rapidly, "whileI go out and start things going by introducing the Honourable HiramCogshell. "

With that the old man took the arm of Katherine's father, who had beenstanding just behind, slipped through the door and was gone. A momentlater, from in front, there arose a succession of cheers for DoctorWest. 

Bruce came slowly down from behind the railing of Judge Kellog's deskand paused before Katherine. She was very white, her breath came witha tremulous irregularity, and she looked at him with wide, wondering, half-fearful eyes. 

At first Bruce could not get out a word, such a choking was there inhis throat, such a throbbing and whirling through all his being. Hedizzily supported himself with a hand upon the back of a bench, andstood and gazed at her. 

It was she that broke the silence. 

"Mr. Hollingsworth did not tell me--you were here. I'd better go. " Andshe started for the door. 

"No--no--don't!" he said. He drew a step nearer her. "I've justread"--holding up the two papers--"what you have done. "

"Mr. Harper has--has exaggerated it very much, " she returned. Hervoice seemed to come with as great a difficulty as his own. 

"And I have read, " he continued, "how much I owe you. "

"It's--it's----" She did not finish in words, but a gesture disclaimedall credit. 

"It has made me. And I want to thank you, and I do thank you. And I dothank you, " he repeated lamely. 

She acknowledged his gratitude with an inclination of her head. Motions came easier than words. 

"And since I owe it all to you, since I owe nothing to any politicalparty, I want to tell you that I am going to try to make the very bestmayor that I can!"

"I am sure of that, " she said. 

"I realize that it's not going to be easy, " he went on. "The peopleseem to be with me now, thanks to you--but as soon as I try to carryout my ideas, I know that both parties will rise up and unite againstme. The big fight is still ahead. But since--since you have done itall--I want you to know that I am going to fight straight ahead forthe people, no matter what happens to me. "

"I know, " she said. 

"My eyes have been opened to many things about politics, " he added. 

She did not speak. 

Silence fell between them; the room was infiltered by a multitudinoushum from without. Presently the thought, and with it the fear, thathad been rising up stronger and stronger in Bruce for the last halfhour, forced itself through his lips. 

"I suppose that now--you'll be going back to New York?"

"No. I have had several cases offered me to-day. I am going to stay inWestville. "

"Oh!" he said--and was conscious of a dizzy relief. Then, "I wish yousuccess. "

"Thank you. "

Again there was a brief silence, both standing and looking inconstraint at one another. 

"This celebration is very trying, isn't it?" she said. "I suppose wemight sit down while we wait. "

"Yes. "

They each took the end of a different bench, and rather stiffly satgazing into the shadowy severity of the big room. Sounding from thefront of the Court House they heard rather vaguely the deep-chested, sonorous rhetoric of the Honourable Hiram. 

But they heard it for but an instant. Suddenly the court room doorflew open and Old Hosie marched straight up before them. 

"You're the dad-blastedest pair of idiots I ever saw!" he burst out, with an exasperation that was not an entire success, for it wasbetrayed by a little quaver. 

They stood up. 

"What's the matter?" stammered Bruce. 

"Matter?" cried Old Hosie. "What d'you suppose I left you two peoplehere together for?"

"You said you had to start----"

"Well, couldn't I have another and a bigger reason? I've beenlistening outside the door here, and the way you people have acted!See here, you two know you love one another, and yet you act towardeach other like a pair of tame icebergs that have just beenintroduced!"

He turned in a fury upon his nephew, blinking to keep the moisturefrom his eyes. 

"Don't you love her?" he demanded, pointing to Katherine, who hadsuddenly grown yet more pale. 

"Why--yes--yes----"

"Then why in the name of God don't you tell her so?"

"I'm--I'm afraid she won't care to hear it, " stammered Bruce, notdaring to look at Katherine. 

"Tell her so, and see what she says, " shouted Old Hosie. "How else areyou going to find out? Tell her what a fool you've been. Tell hershe's proved to you you're all wrong about what you thought she oughtto do. Tell her unless you get some one of sense to help run you, you're going to make an all-fired mess of this mayor's job. Tellher"--there was a choking in his voice--"oh, boy, just tell her whatyou feel!

"And now, " he added quickly, and again sharply, "that mob outsidewon't listen to the Honourable Hiram much longer. They want you folks. I give you just two minutes to fix things up. Two minutes--no more!"

And pulling his high hat down upon his forehead, Old Hosie turnedabruptly and again left the room. 

Bruce looked slowly about upon Katherine. His rugged, powerful facewas working with emotion. 

"What Uncle Hosie has said is all true, " he stammered fearfully. "Youknow I love you, Katherine. And there isn't anything you'll want to dothat I'll not be glad to have you do. Won't you forget, Katherine, andwon't you--won't you----"

He stretched out his arms to her. "Oh, Katherine!" he cried. "I loveyou! I want you! I need you!"

While he spoke her face had grown radiant. "And I--and I"--shechoked, then her voice went on with an uprush of happiness--"andI--oh, Arnold, I need you!"

 * * * * *

When Old Hosie reëntered a minute later and saw what there was to beseen, he let out a little cry of joy and swooped down upon them. 

"Look out, Katherine, " he warned, quaveringly, "for I'm going to kissyou!" But despite this warning the old man succeeded in hisenterprise. "This is great!--great!" he cried, shaking a hand of each. "But we'll have to cut this hallelujah business short till that littlepicnic outside is over. I just pulled the Honourable Hiram down--and, say, just listen to that roar!"

A roar it was indeed. Of a bursting brass band, of thousands of eagerpeople. 

"And who do you suppose they're shouting for?" inquired the joyousHosie. 

Katherine smiled a tear-bright smile at Bruce. 

"For the new mayor, " she said. 

"No, no! All for you!" said he. 

"Well, come on and we'll see who it's for!" cried Old Hosie. 

And taking an arm of each he led them out to face the cheeringmultitude. 

 THE END

 THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS GARDEN CITY. N. Y. 

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:

Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors;otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to theauthor's words and intent.