best under difficulties."

Rochester shook his head gloomily. "I might have - Jove! why didn't
I ask for bail?"

"Bail!" The banker suppressed a chuckle as he eyed the threadbare
suit and tattered appearance of the burglar, who had resumed his
seat in the prisoner's cage. "Who would have stood surety for that
scarecrow?"

"I would have." Rochester spoke with some vehemence, but his words
were partly drowned by the violent fit of coughing which again shook
the burglar, and before he could finish his sentence, Helen McIntyre
stood at his elbow. She bowed gravely to Clymer who rose at her
approach, and laid a persuasive hand on Rochester's sleeve.

"Will you come with us?" she asked. "Barbara and Dr. Stone are
ready to leave. The doctor wishes to -" As she spoke she looked
across at Stone, who stood opposite her in the little group. He
failed to catch both her word and her eye, his gaze, passing over
her shoulder, was riveted on the burglar.

"Something is wrong," he announced and pushed past Barbara. "Let
me inside the cage," he directed as the deputy marshal kept the gate
closed at his approach. "Your prisoner appears ill."

One glance at the burglar proved the truth of the physician's
statement and the gate was hastily opened. Stone bent over the man,
whose spasmodic breathing could be heard distinctly through the
court room, then his gaze shifted to the other occupants of the cage.