p was the only indiscretion of
his whole career.

"And now, I have a right to demand of you both the name of my dead
foster-brother's heir. The million dollars paid for the poor boy's
half of the Detroit lands is on deposit in the Railway Company's
safes, awaiting the probate of his will."

"HE STANDS BEFORE YOU," gravely said Doctor Atwater, taking her
hand.

"Poor Randall! Some premonition of his doom haunted him. He had
saved some money, and by investments accumulated a little purse
of twenty thousand dollars or so. And this, and all his estate,
he willed to Mr. Witherspoon, as a wedding present for Francine
Delacroix!"

"Why did you not tell me sooner?" reproachfully demanded the heiress,
turning her lovely eyes upon Witherspoon.

"Because I wished to freely aid in running down his murderers; to
clear his memory, and because the great world would have misinterpreted
my zeal. I know the nobility of heart with which your father set
aside this property for Clayton, as soon as he found out the old
title! Had they met at Cheyenne, all would have been well!"

And then Alice Worthington thanked God in her anxious heart that
her dangerous secret was safe. She smiled through her happy tears
as she placed her hand in Witherspoon's. "We will both cherish his
memory, for life! And I now only exact one condition: that is,
that Francine's wedding shall be from my home. We were schoolmates,
and sisters of the heart, though our home was a very quiet one.
My father was averse to all family intimacies. The executors are
ready to make the transfer of the money whenever you prove up poor
Randall's will."

"And I," said Witherspoon, "exact one thing in return. I demand
the right, in honor, to refund to the Trading Company all the money
used by the murderer, the whole search expenses, and the double
rewards. There will be a princely fortune left for me after all,
and this money so used will vindicate poor Clayton's memory from
all blame for his chivalric folly." Alice Worthington bowed her
head in assent, as the spirited young man proceeded.

"When you see Irma Gluyas, you will know what a strange fate overtook
him. For she has been made another woman by the manly love of the
poor fellow who believed in her." The Detroit lawyer was deceived
by the heiress' calmness. "She knew nothing," he mused. "It is
well."

While Atwater busied himself in the removal of the two women who
had been Fritz Braun's dupes, and arranged f