toward Ben Nyland's cabin.

For he had heard that day in Okar that Ben Nyland had taken a train
eastward that morning, to return on the afternoon of the day following.
And during the time Dale had been talking with Maison; and Silverthorn,
and playing cards with them, he thought often of Peggy Nyland.

Silverthorn and Morley did not remain long in Maison's private room in
the bank building.

Morley had promised to play cards with some of his men in the City
Hotel barroom, and he joined them there, while Silverthorn went to his
rooms in the upper story of the station.

After the departure of the others, Maison sat for a long time at the
table in the private room, making figures on paper.

Maison had exacted from the world all the luxuries he thought his
pampered body desired. His financial career would not have borne
investigation, but Maison's operations had been so smooth and subtle
that he had left no point at which an enemy could begin an
investigation.

But years of questionable practice had had an inevitable effect upon
Maison. Outwardly, he had hardened, but only Maison knew of the many
devils his conscience created for him.

Continued communion with the devils of conscience had made a coward of
Maison. When at last he got up from the table he glanced
apprehensively around the room; and after he had put out the light and
climbed the stairs to his rooms above the bank, he was trembling.

Maison had often dealt crookedly with his fellow-men, but never, until
the incident of Devil's Hole, had he deliberately planned murder. Thus
tonight Maison's conscience had more ghastly evidence to confront him
with, and conscience is a pitiless retributive agent.

Maison poured himself a generous drink of whisky from a bottle on a
sideboard before he got into bed, but the story told him by Dale and
the others of the terrible scene at Devil's Hole--remained so staringly
vivid in his thoughts that whisky could not dim it.

He groaned and pulled the covers over his head, squirming and twisting,
for the night was warm and there was little air stirring.

After a while Maison sat up. It seemed to him that he had been in bed
for an age, though actually the time was not longer than an hour.

It had been late when he had left the room downstairs. And now he
listened for sounds that would tell him that Okar's citizens were still
busy with their pleasures.

But no sound came from the street. Maison yearned for company,