Rainey remained sullenly silent.

"Answer me!" insisted the District Attorney. "You are, aren't
you?"

"I am," at last declared Rainey.

"Well, then," commanded Winthrop, "tell him to stop this. Tell
him I advise it."

Through his glasses Rainey blinked violently at the District
Attorney, and laughed. "I didn't know," he said, "that you were
a medical man."

Winthrop looked at the Doctor so steadily, and for so long
a time, that the eyes of the young man sought the floor and the
ceiling; and his sneer changed to an expression of discomfort.

"I am not," said Winthrop. "I am the District Attorney of New
York." His tones were cold, precise; they fell upon the
superheated brain of Dr. Rainey like drops from an icicle.

"When I took over that office," continued Winthrop, "I found a
complaint against two medical students, a failure to report the
death of an old man in a private sanitarium."

Winthrop lowered his eyes, and became deeply absorbed in the
toe of his boot. "I haven't looked into the papers, yet," he
said.