s up and he refused to be intimidated.
"What for?" he snarled. "I stand by my own acts. I ain't ashamed of
them. If people don't like it they can lump it. What do I care what
they say about me? They're only envious. They'd give their eyes to
have what I've got. Let them publish their story. Who's hurt by it?
Nobody but your feelings. Am I going to pay through the nose to soothe
your feelings? Not five thousand dollars' worth! I'll be damned if
I'll pay!"

He went out through the smaller door, slamming it behind him.

Mrs. Deaves turned hard inimical eyes on her husband. "Then it's up to
you to find the money," she said.

"But, my dear," he whined, "you know my circumstances. How can I?
Where? It is out of the question!"

"I don't care where you get it; you get it," she returned callously.
"If that story is published I leave this house. You know what that
means."

She marched out by the main door.

Evan could not but feel for the poor, crushed, flabby creature at the
desk. In Evan's own phrase George got it coming _and_ going. He was
like a pricked bladder; all his pomposity had escaped like gas.

"What am I to do?" he murmured.

"Get the money together," said Evan, "and pay it over according to
their orders. Then let me see if I can't get it back again--and get
them, too."

CHAPTER VI

THE LITTLE FELLOW IN GREY

It turned out that George Deaves could lay his hands on the money,
though perhaps it was not easy for him to do so. George's principal
fortune consisted in being the son of his father; he could get almost
unlimited credit on the strength of that connection. When Simeon
Deaves saw that he was determined to pay the money to the blackmailers,
he urged him to accept Evan's offer to run them down, and in the end,
notwithstanding his terror of Maud Deaves, George gave in. Father and
son, who had begun the day by accusing Evan of the crime, ended by
depending on Evan to run down the criminals.

At ten o'clock George Deaves and Evan set out for the bank. It was not
far and they proceeded on foot down the Avenue. Evan kept his eyes
open about him, and before they had gone more than a block or two he
spotted the well-remembered little figure in the grey suit still
dogging their footsteps. Drawing George Deaves up to a shop window as
if to show him something inside, he called his attention to the
stripling with the pale and watchful face. Deaves shivered.

"Do you suppose he