ething has braced him so that he isn't afraid of the man any longer.
Perhaps he has got a line of his own on him. It doesn't seem to be worth
anything any longer. Suppose you tell me just who he is and what about
him?"

"Not on your life!" retorted Detective Mullaney, sharply. "I ain't
saying anything against your family, of course, but when I give a Dodd
something for nothing--even a hint--it will be when I'm talking in my
sleep and don't know it. But I'll tell you what I _will_ do. Give me my
two hundred and fifty and I'll hand you the whole proposition and you
may go ahead and make what you can of it. I swear to you again that I've
got it on him. Seeing what he did to _you_, you ought to feel that the
story is worth that much of a gamble even for private purposes."

Dodd hesitated, put his hand in his pocket--then withdrew it empty.

"No, Mullaney. What's the good? He says Farr isn't dangerous, and has
turned down the whole thing flat. I may as well keep my money. If you
want to sit on the platform, come along with me. I can find a place for
you."

Detective Mullaney followed willingly, for he knew that people were
fairly piling over one another in an attempt to get into the hall by the
main entrance.

He sat down in one of the square chairs on the platform and searched
with his sharp little eyes until he found the face of Walker Farr in the
terraced rows of humanity. It was not difficult to locate him, for
his physique made him loom among other men and he was posted under the
banner which marked the location of Moosac County.

The detective found the eyes of the young man directed toward the
gallery with such intentness and for so long a time that he endeavored
to trace that earnest scrutiny to its object. The detective was not
exactly certain, but he finally picked out a very handsome young lady
who occupied a front chair in the balcony; she seemed to be returning
the young man's intent regard.

"You have the reputation of knowing all the pretty girls in the state,"
whispered Mullaney, drawing Dodd's attention with a nudge. "Who is that
up there in the gallery, front row, fifth from the aisle; blue feather,
and so handsome she hurts my eyes?"

To have his attention drawn thus rudely to the one girl in all the world
gave Dodd a sensation which he did not relish--and his face showed his
astonished resentment.

"That is Miss Kilgour, who used to be my uncle's secretary. Why do you
want to know who she is?"