clutching, and stood staring at nothing, gnawing at his
colorless lips.

The girl watched him with dawning terror and finally ventured to speak.
"Dear, what is the matter? Are you displeased with me? Do you think that
he is not a man I should care for? You don't know him, dear. You have
only to see him, to speak with him, hear his voice, look into his
eyes----"

"Good God!" groaned Herold, closing his sunken eyes. Then, almost
feeling his way out and along the dark passageway, he descended the
stairs, heavily.

Marche, cleaning his gun in the sitting-room, looked up in surprise,
then rose, laying aside stock, fore-end, and barrel, as Herold came into
the room. The next instant, stepping nearer, he stared into Herold's
face in silence. And so they met and confronted each other after many
years.

"Are _you_ Herold?" said the young man, in a low voice.

"That is my name--now."

"_You_ have been in my employment--for five years?"

"Yes. Judge Gilkins gave me the chance. I could not suppose that the
club would ever become your property."

The younger man's face hardened. "But when it did become my property,
why had you the indecency to stay?"

"Where else could I go?"

"You had the whole world to--operate in."

Herold's thin face flushed. "It was fitter that I should work for you,"
he said. "I have served you faithfully for five years."

"And unfaithfully for ten! Wasn't it enough that Vyse and I let you go
without prosecuting you? Wasn't it enough that we pocketed our loss for
your wife's sake?"

He checked himself in a flash of memory, turned, and looked at the
picture on the wall. Now he knew, now he understood why his former
associate's handwriting had seemed familiar after all these years.

And suddenly he remembered that this man was Jim's father--and the
father of the young girl he was in love with; and the shock drove every
drop of blood out of his heart and cheeks. Ghastly, staring, he stood
confronting Herold; and the latter, leaning heavily, shoulder against
the wall, stared back at him.

"I could have gone on working for you," he said, "trying to save enough
to make restitution--some day. I _have_ already saved part of it. Look
at me--look at my children--at the way we live, and you'll understand
how I have saved. But I _have_ saved part of what I took. I'll give you
that much before you go--before I go, too."

His breath came heavily, unevenly; he cleared his eyes with a
work-stained hand,