ne; but between four and five o'clock in the
afternoon the chief justice would be in his chambers in the Capitol
building, and would be glad to have the son of his old friend the
senator come at that hour.

With time on his hands, Blount squared himself at his desk and began to
set his railroad house in order. Now that the dreadful step was
practically taken, he was free to wind up the business of his office,
leaving things in order for his successor. Once he had thought that he
could not stay in the capital or in the West after the cataclysm. But
now the manlier thought prevailed. A hard fate was making him his
father's betrayer; but beyond the betrayal, with the bare duty done, he
would take his place as his father's son, proving his love and loyalty
by going down with him to any depth of infamy into which the cataclysm
might drag him.

Since there was much to be done in the winding-up task, the forenoon
fled quickly, and the hands of the small paper-weight clock on the desk
were pointing to a quarter of two when Blount snapped the rubber band
upon the final file of referred papers. There were other odds and ends
to be set in order, but he determined to let them wait until he had
eaten. A scant half-hour in the club grill-room was all he allowed
himself, and at a quarter past two he was back at his desk, preparing to
make the cleaning-up task complete. Between four and five, Judge
Hemingway had said; and Blount began on one of the odds and ends, which
was the writing of his letter of resignation from the railroad service.

He was enclosing the letter when there came a light tap at the
office-door, and then the door itself opened to admit Patricia--a
Patricia bright-eyed and determined, alluringly charming in her tightly
veiled driving-hat, muffling motor-coat, and dainty gauntlets.

"You?" said Blount not too hospitably. "I thought you said something
about going to Wartrace?"

"So I did, and so I am," she asserted, coming to sit in the chair last
occupied by one Thomas Gryson.

"And the others?" he queried.

"They have just left; gone on ahead in the touring-car. I was deputed to
bring you."

"But I told you this morning that I couldn't go, and I can't!" he
protested.

She looked him squarely in the eye. "Evan, you don't dare tell me why
you can't!"

"Business," he pleaded.

"That may be half of the truth, but it isn't any more than half." Then
she made the direct appeal: "I wish you'd tell me, Evan. I