nough.

"I'm her husband. Who are you?"

Mary called a soft admonition.

"Don't speak, any of you," she directed. "You mustn't let him hear your
voices."

Dick was exasperated by this persistent identification of herself with
these criminals in his father's house.

"You're fighting me like a coward," he said hotly. His voice was bitter.
The eyes that had always been warm in their glances on her were chill
now. He turned a little way from her, as if in instinctive repugnance.
"You are taking advantage of my love. You think that because of it I
can't make a move against these men. Now, listen to me, I----"

"I won't!" Mary cried. Her words were shrill with mingled emotions.
"There's nothing to talk about," she went on wildly. "There never can be
between you and me."

The young man's voice came with a sonorous firmness that was new to
it. In these moments, the strength of him, nourished by suffering, was
putting forth its flower. His manner was masterful.

"There can be and there will be," he contradicted. He raised his voice a
little, speaking into the shadows where was the group of silent men.

"You men back there!" he cried. "If I give you my word to let every one
of you go free and pledge myself never to recognize one of you again,
will you make Mary here listen to me? That's all I ask. I want a few
minutes to state my case. Give me that. Whether I win or lose, you men
go free, and I'll forget everything that has happened here to-night."
There came a muffled guffaw of laughter from the big chest of Chicago
Red at this extraordinarily ingenuous proposal, while Dacey chuckled
more quietly.

Dick made a gesture of impatience at this open derision.

"Tell them I can be trusted," he bade Mary curtly.

It was Garson who answered.

"I know that you can be trusted," he said, "because I know you lo----"
He checked himself with a shiver, and out of the darkness his face
showed white.

"You must listen," Dick went on, facing again toward the girl, who was
trembling before him, her eyes by turns searching his expression
or downcast in unfamiliar confusion, which she herself could hardly
understand.

"Your safety depends on me," the young man warned. "Suppose I should
call for help?"

Garson stepped forward threateningly.

"You would only call once," he said very gently, yet most grimly. His
hand went to the noiseless weapon in his coat-pocket.

But the young man's answer revealed the fact that he, too, was