inside the works--a man that you killed--in the way of business. I
agreed to give you the message--for quits. Good-bye." The voice rang off
and Philip Harris sat alone.

A man that he had killed--in the way of business--! Hundreds of them--at
work for him--New York--Cincinnati--St. Louis. It would not be easy--to
trace a man that he had killed in business.

So he sat with bent head, in the circle of his own works... the network
he had spread over the land--and somewhere, outside that circle, his
child, the very heart, was held as hostage--three months. Little Betty!
He shivered a little and got op and reached for a flask of brandy and
poured it out, gulping it down. He looked about the room ... inside now.
He had shut himself in his citadel... and they were inside. The brandy
stayed his hand from shaking--but he knew that he had weakened. His mind
went back to the man he had "killed in business"--the straight, clear
voice sounding over the 'phone--he had not wanted to ruin him--them,
hundreds of them. It was the System--kill or be killed. He took his
chance and they took theirs--and they had gone down.




XVI

A CLUE GOES TO SLEEP

The morning was alive in the hospital. The sun glinted in. Pale faces,
lifted on their pillows, turned toward it; and Achilles, passing with
light step between the rows, smiled at them. Alcibiades was better. They