was waiting. All that Happy knew of this was in her
cry afterwards. He was sitting alone, when Cory threw open the door
and said, 'I've got you this time, Happy!' His pistol was raised but
never fired. He waited too long, meaning to establish his case of
'self-defence,' and Fear is the quickest man I know. Cory fell just
inside the door. Claudine stumbled upon him as she came running after
him, crying out to her husband that she 'never meant no trouble,' that
Cory had sworn to her that he only wanted to shake hands and 'make up.'
Other people heard the shot and broke into the room, but they did not
try to stop Fear; he warned them off and walked out without hindrance,
and came to me. I've got to clear him."

Ariel knew what he meant: she realized the actual thing as it was, and,
though possessed by a strange feeling that it must all be medieval and
not possibly of to-day, understood that he would have to fight to keep
his friend from being killed; that the unhappy creature who had run
into the office out of the dark stood in high danger of having his neck
broken, unless Joe could help him. He made it clear to her that the
State would kill Happy if it could; that it would be a point of pride
with certain deliberate men holding office to take the life of the
little man; that if they did secure his death it would be set down to
their efficiency, and was even competent as campaign material. "I wish
to point out," Joe had heard a candidate for re-election vehemently
orate, "that in addition to the other successful convictions I have
named, I and my assistants have achieved the sending of three men to
the gallows during my term of office!"

"I can't tell yet," said Joe, at parting. "It may be hard. I'm so
sorry you saw all this. I--"

"Oh NO!" she cried. "I want to UNDERSTAND!"

She was still there, at the gate, her elbows resting upon the
cross-bar, when, a long time after Joe had gone, there came from the
alley behind the big back yard the minor chordings of a quartette of
those dark strollers who never seem to go to bed, who play by night and
playfully pretend to work by day:

"You know my soul is a-full o' them-a-trub-bils,
Ev-ry mawn!
I cain' a-walk withouten I stum-bils!
Then le'ss go on--
Keep walkin' on!
These times is sow'owful, an' I am pow'owful
Sick an' fo'lawn!"

She heard a step upon the path behind her, and, turning, saw a
white-wrapped figu