the
faces of those who had brought him, then advanced weavingly on the
woman, with,

"Get up from there. Get your hat. I'll show you. You come 'long home
with me! Ain't I your husband?"

"Doctor Bowman," peppery little old Dykeman spoke up from the depths of
his chair. "Your wife was brought here to a--to a--"

"Meeting," Cummings supplied hastily.

"Huh?" Bowman wheeled and saw us. "Why-ee! Di'n' know so many gen'lemen
here."

"Yes," the lawyer put a hand on his shoulder. "Conference--over the
evidence in the Gilbert case. No time like the present for you to say--"

"Hol' on a minute," Bowman raised a hand with dignity.

"Cummings," said Dykeman disgustedly, "the man's drunk!"

"No, no," owlishly. "'m not 'ntoxicated. Overcome with 'motion." He took
a brace. "That woman there--'f I sh'd tell you--walk into hotel room,
find her with three men! Three of 'em!"

"How much of this are these ladies to stand for?" I demanded.

"Ladies?" Bowman roared suddenly. "She's m' wife. Where's th' other man?
Nothing 'gainst you gen'lmen. Where's he? I'll settle with him. Let that
thing go long 'nough. Too long. Bring him out. I'll settle him now!"

He dropped heavily into the chair Cummings shoved up behind him, stared
around, drooped a bit, pulled himself together, and looked at us; then
his head went forward on his neck, a long breath sounded--

"And you'll keep Worth Gilbert in jail, run the risk of a suit for false
imprisonment--on that!" I wanted to know.

"And plenty more," the lawyer held steady, but I saw his uneasiness with
every snore Bowman drew.

Barbara crossed to speak low and earnestly to Dykeman. I heard most of
his answer--shaken, but disposed to hang on,

"Girl like you is too much influenced by the man in the case. Hero
worship--all that sort of thing. An outlaw is an outlaw. This isn't a
personal matter. Mr. Cummings and I are merely doing our duty as good
citizens."

At that, I think it possible that Dykeman would have listened to reason;
it was Cummings who broke in uncontrollably,

"Barbara Wallace, I was your father's friend. I'm yours--if you'll let
me be. I can't stand by while you entangle yourself with a criminal like
Worth Gilbert. For your sake, if for no other reason, I would be
determined to show him up as what he is: a thief--and his father's
murderer."

Silence in the room, except the irregular snoring of Bowman, a rustle
and a deeply taken breath now and again where Mrs. Bowman