would have her walk. He seizes her arm.

"My dear," he whispers in those accents which seem to have lost their
magic power, "it is merely a claimant. I was expecting it, and I'll
put him in the penitentiary for it. Do not be alarmed by forgers. It
is only a forgery."

CHAPTER V

AT SIX O'CLOCK

Through the mist and the smoke a red and a green light shine out on
State street.

The door of the little store is locked. The bride's hand has rattled
the latch.

A silver star can be seen in the store. It is an officer in charge of
the premises. He hurries to the door.

"Are you Mrs. Lockwin?"

"I am. Let him in, too." The officer has willed to exclude the
bridegroom.

"Hadn't he better wait outside?"

"Let him in!"

"Here is a packet addressed to you." The officer hands to the bride a
thick letter. "Take this chair, madam."

The bride sits down, her back toward the lights in the window. The
bridegroom stands close behind her.

"Be firm, Esther. I'll put him in the penitentiary. I'll put him in
the penitentiary!"

The bride opens the packet. Many folded documents fall to her lap.
She is quick to spread out the chief letter.

The bridegroom pulls the silk handkerchief off his white shirt-front
and wipes his perspiring forehead again and again. He leans over her
shoulder to read. The writing is large and distinct:

Thursday Afternoon, Nov. 30.

MY DEARLY BELOVED WIFE AND WIDOW:

It may be barely possible that I have lived these years of shame and
degradation to some good purpose, and for the following reasons: The
man whom you now love so well--the man whom you are about to
marry--George Harpwood--is an adventurer and a criminal.

I inclose documents which show that on Monday, the 4th of August, 1873,
this George Harpwood, described and photographed, married Mary Berners,
who now lives at Crescentville, a suburb of Philadelphia. She bears
the name of Mrs. Mary Harpwood, and has not been divorced to her
knowledge. Beside deserting her, Harpwood robbed her and reduced her
to penury.

I inclose documents showing that five years earlier, or on Wednesday,
the 8th of January, 1868, George Harpwood eloped with a child wife,
Eleanor Hastings, and basely deserted her within four weeks. She now
resides with her sister-in-law, Mrs. Moses Hastings, on Ox-Bow Prairie,
a few miles south of Sturgis, Michigan.

It is my request that the little store and its belongings,