felt himself break into a sweat of apprehension. That plain-
clothes man had died! The police were looking for him. There could
be no other explanation, else why had Higgins and the rest fled
the country? Why had his father been so cautious in communicating
with him? If it came to a trial, undoubtedly a jury would find him
equally guilty with Higgins, for he had held the poor fellow's
hands; it was he who had engineered the whole episode. Perhaps he
was already indicted. Kirk saw himself accused of manslaughter,
arrested, and tried. What could he do if his father refused to
help? With money, almost anything could be achieved; without it,
and particularly without his father's influence, what would
happen? Evidently the Governor believed him guilty. In that case
the young man knew that explanations would be futile. Even the
letter he had sent would do no good. When Darwin K. Anthony said
he was through, he was through.

Finding a secluded corner of the veranda, he sat down to think
this matter out; but the more he reflected on it the more serious
it appeared. Of one thing he became quickly convinced: New York at
present was no place for him. A moment ago it seemed far away and
extremely desirable, now it was altogether too close at hand and
most undesirable. His father's reference to the stupidity of the
police persuaded him finally that his whereabouts were unknown,
but how long they would remain so was of course a question. It was
useless to attempt further concealment. In the first place, he
lacked means of moving, nor could he conceal his identity under an
assumed name while he remained in Panama, for he had already
advertised himself too well for that. Besides, the idea of hiding
did not appeal to him. He decided to face it out, therefore,
hoping sometime to get to the bottom of the affair. If he were