to leave the country in any event. I am going to write to him
to-night, asking him to let them apply for the pardon. It may save
him from three years more of servitude. Mr. Clegg is sure he can
get his release--what's the matter, Elias?"

The old clerk's body had stiffened and the look in his face was
something horrible to behold. Terror was visible in every lineament.
His companions started from their chairs in alarm. With a mighty
effort the old man succeeded in regaining a semblance of self-control.
His body relaxed, and his jaw dropped; his voice was trembling and
weak as he responded, an apologetic grin on his face.

"Nothing--nothing at all. A momentary pain. Don't mind me. Don't
mind me," he mumbled. "I have them often. I think it's my heart.
What were you saying, Graydon? Oh, yes, the pardon. I-I hope you'll
mention me in writing to your father. Tell him I hope to--to see
him if he comes to New York."

"I don't believe he likes you, Elias," said Graydon, half jestingly.

"Wha--what has he said to you?" demanded Droom sharply.

"He rather resented your taking Jane and me to Joliet that day."
The old man's grin was malicious. "He won't forgive you that."

"I shall never forget how he looked at you, Mr. Droom," said Jane
with a shudder. Droom trembled with a new spasm of fear.

Attention was diverted by the arrival of the party of six. The
men were distinguished in appearance, the women aristocratic but