tch on her throat just then,
which would not relax at the call of her will.

The tension of a moment grew, became pervasive. Burke, accustomed as
he was to scenes of dramatic violence, now experienced an altogether
unfamiliar thrill. As for Garson, once again the surge of feeling
threatened to overwhelm his self-control. He must not break down! For
Mary's sake, he must show himself stoical, quite undisturbed in this
supreme hour.

Of a sudden, an inspiration came to him, a means to snap the tension,
to create a diversion wholly efficacious. He would turn to his boasting
again, would call upon his vanity, which he knew well as his chief
foible, and make it serve as the foil against his love. He strove
manfully to throw off the softer mood. In a measure, at least, he
won the fight--though always, under the rush of this vaunting, there
throbbed the anguish of his heart.

"You want to cut out worrying about me," he counseled, bravely. "Why,
I ain't worrying any, myself--not a little bit! You see, it's something
new I've pulled off. Nobody ever put over anything like it before."

He faced Burke with a grin of gloating again.

"I'll bet there'll be a lot of stuff in the newspapers about this, and
my picture, too, in most of 'em! What?"

The man's manner imposed on Burke, though Mary felt the torment that his
vainglorying was meant to mask.

"Say," Garson continued to the Inspector, "if the reporters want any
pictures of me, could I have some new ones taken? The one you've got of
me in the Gallery is over ten years old. I've taken off my beard since
then. Can I have a new one?" He put the question with an eagerness that
seemed all sincere.

Burke answered with a fine feeling of generosity.

"Sure, you can, Joe! I'll send you up to the Gallery right now."

"Immense!" Garson cried, boisterously. He moved toward Dick Gilder,
walking with a faint suggestion of swagger to cover the nervous tremor
that had seized him.

"So long, young fellow!" he exclaimed, and held out his hand. "You've
been on the square, and I guess you always will be."

Dick had no scruple in clasping that extended hand very warmly in his
own. He had no feeling of repulsion against this man who had committed
a murder in his presence. Though he did not quite understand the other's
heart, his instinct as a lover taught him much, so that he pitied
profoundly--and respected, too.

"We'll do what we can for you," he said, simply.

"That's all right,