ety, an informer? Or was he one of the underground criminals
of the world, one of those who crawl beneath the surface of known
things--a creature of the dark places? Perhaps during those few
minutes, when his brain was cool and active, with the great city
awakening all around him, Laverick realized more completely than
ever before exactly how he stood. Without doubt he was walking on
the brink of a precipice. Four days ago there had been nothing for
him but ruin. The means of salvation had suddenly presented
themselves in this startling and dramatic manner, and without
hesitation he had embraced them. What did it all amount to? How
far was he guilty, and of what? Was he a thief? The law would
probably call him so. The law might have even more to say. It
would say that by keeping his mouth closed as to his adventure on
that night he had ranged himself on the side of the criminals,--he
was guilty not only of technical theft, but of a criminal knowledge
of this terrible crime. Events had followed upon one another so
rapidly during these last few days that he had little enough time
for reflection, little time to realize exactly how he stood. The
long-expected boom in "Unions," the coming of Zoe, the strange
advances made to him by Mademoiselle Idiale, her incomprehensible
connection with this tragedy across which he had stumbled, and her
apparent knowledge of his share in it,--these things were sufficient,
indeed, to give him food for thought. Laverick was not by nature a
pessimist. Other things being equal, he would have made, without
doubt, a magnificent soldier, for he had courage of a rare and high
order. It never occurred to him to sit and brood upon his own danger.
He rather welcomed the opportunity of occupying his mind with other
thoughts. Yet in those few minutes, while he waited for the business
of the day to commence, he looked his exact position in the face
and he realized more thoroughly how grave it really was. How was he
to find a way out--to set himself right with the law? What could
he do with those notes? They were there untouched. He had only
made use of them in an indirect way. They were there intact, as
he had picked them up upon that fateful night. Was there any
possible chance by means of which he might discover the owner and
restore them in such a way that his name might never be mentioned?
His eyes repeatedly sought that envelope which lay before him.
Inside it must lie the sec