s typewriter. So much for my political dreams! With that
carbon sheet I could pile up a big majority; without it I shall be
defeated. But don't let that bother you."

"McQuade!" John slowly extended his arms and closed his fingers so
tightly that his whole body trembled. An arm inside those fingers
would have snapped like a pipe-stem. "McQuade! Damn him!"

"Take care!" warned the other. "Don't injure those letters. When my
name was suggested by Senator Henderson as a possible candidate,
McQuade at once set about to see how he could injure my chances. He
was afraid of me. An honest man, young, new in politics, and therefore
unattached, was a menace to the success of his party, that is to say,
his hold on the city government. Among his henchmen was a man named
Bolles."

"Ah!" grimly.

"He sent this man to New York to look up my past. In order to earn his
money he brought back this lie, which is half a truth. Whether McQuade
believes it or not is of no matter; it serves his purpose. Now, John!"

John made no reply. With his hands (one still clutching the letters)
behind his back he walked the length of the room and returned.

"Will you take my word, which you have always found loyal, or the word
of a man who has written himself down as a rascal, a briber, and a
blackleg?"

John put out his empty hand and laid it on Warrington's shoulder.

"You're a good man, Dick. Dissipation is sometimes a crucible that
separates the gold from the baser metals. It has done that to you. You
are a good man, an honorable man. In coming to me like this you have
shown yourself to be courageous as well. There was a moment when the
sight of you filled my heart with murder. It was the night after I
received that letter. I've been watching you, watching, watching.
Well, I would stake my chance of eternity on your honesty. I take your
word; I should have taken it, had you nothing to prove your case. That
night I ran into Bolles. ... Well, he uttered a vile insult, and I all
but throttled him. Here's my hand, Dick."

The hand-grip that followed drew a gasp from Warrington.

"Not every man would be so good about it, John. What shall we do about
McQuade?"

"I was about to say that I shall see McQuade within an hour," in a
tone that did not promise well for McQuade.

"Wait a day or two, John. If you meet him now, I believe you will do
him bodily harm, and he has caused enough trouble, God knows."

"But not to meet him! Not to cram this