your temper, Mr. Galbraith," he advised coolly. "The moment is
mine, and I say you shall listen first and obey afterward. Otherwise you
die. Which is it to be? Choose quickly--time is precious."

The president yielded the first point, that of the receptive ear; but
grudgingly and as one under strict compulsion.

"Well, well, then; out with it. What have you to say for yourself?"

"This: You are rich: you represent the existing order of things. I am
poor, and I stand for my necessity, which is higher than any man-made
law or custom. You have more money than you can possibly use in any
legitimate personal channels: I have not the price of the next meal,
already twenty-four hours overdue. I came here this morning with my life
in my hand to invite you to share with me a portion of that which is
yours chiefly by the right of possession. If you do it, well and good:
if not, there will be a new president of the Bayou State Security. Do I
make myself sufficiently explicit?"

Andrew Galbraith glanced furtively at the paper-weight clock on his
desk. It was nearly eleven, and MacFarland would surely come in on the
stroke of the hour. If he could only fend off the catastrophe for a few
minutes, until help should come. He searched in his pockets and drew
forth a handful of coins.

"You say you are hungry: I'm na that well off that I canna remember the
time when I knew what it was to be on short commons, mysel'," he said;
and the unconscious lapse into the mother idiom was a measure of his
perturbation. "Take this, now, and be off wi' you, and we'll say no more
about it."

The invader of privacies glanced at the clock in his turn and shook his
head.

"You are merely trying to gain time, and you know it, Mr. Galbraith. My
stake in this game is much more than a handful of charity silver; and I
don't do you the injustice to believe that you hold your life so
cheaply; you who have so much money and, at best, so few years to live."

The president put the little heap of coins on the desk, but he did not
abandon the struggle for delay.

"What's your price, then?" he demanded, as one who may possibly consider
a compromise.

"One hundred thousand dollars--in cash."

"But man! ye're clean daft! Do ye think I have----"

"I am not here to argue," was the incisive interruption. "Take your pen
and fill out a check payable to your own order for one hundred thousand
dollars, and do it now. If that door opens before we have concluded,