"Well, the trial came up at last. That man Harbert is a devil. He
had twenty witnesses, any one of whom could have convicted your
father. How he got onto them, I can't imagine. He uncovered every
deal we've--er--he had in Chicago and--"

"Then he really was guilty!" groaned Graydon.

"Yes, my boy, I knew it, of course. They could not force me to
testify against him, however. I was too smart for them. Well, to
make it short, he was sentenced five weeks ago. The motion for a
new trial was overruled. He went to Joliet. If he had been a popular
alderman or ward boss he would have been out yet on continuances,
spending most of his sentence in some fasionable hotel, to say the
least."

"Is he--wearing stripes?"

"Yes, it's the fashion there."

"For God's sake, don't jest. For five years!" The young man sank
into a chair and covered his face with his hands.

"There'll be something off for good behaviour, my boy. He wanted
to behave well before he went there, so I suppose he'll keep it
up. The whole town was against him. He didn't have a friend."

"How did you escape?" demanded Graydon, looking up suddenly.
"State's evidence?"