sus, who judged the world's
morals by his own, was not of course aware of this, and he worried
night and day thinking what he could do to prevent his son from
marrying the daughter of the man he had wronged.

The more he pondered over it, the more he regretted that there
was not some other girl with whom Jefferson could fall in love
and marry. He need not seek a rich girl--there was certainly
enough money in the Ryder family to provide for both. He wished
they knew a girl, for example, as attractive and clever as Miss
Green. Ah! he thought, there was a girl who would make a man of
Jefferson--brainy, ambitious, active! And the more he thought of
it the more the idea grew on him that Miss Green would be an ideal
daughter-in-law, and at the same time snatch his son from the
clutches of the Rossmore woman.

Jefferson, during all these weeks, was growing more and more
impatient. He knew that any day now Shirley might take her
departure from their house and return to Massapequa. If the
impeachment proceedings went against her father it was more than
likely that he would lose her forever, and if, on the contrary,
the judge were acquitted, Shirley never would be willing to marry
him without his father's consent; and this, he felt, he would
never obtain. He resolved, therefore, to have a final interview
with his father and declare boldly his intention of making Miss
Rossmore his wife, regardless of the consequences.

The opportunity came one evening after dinner. Ryder, Sr. was
sitting alone in the library, reading, Mrs. Ryder had gone to the
theatre with a friend, Shirley as usual was writing in her room,
giving the final touches to her now completed "History of the
Empire Trading Company." Jefferson took the bull by the horns and
boldly accosted his redoubtable parent.

"May I have a few minutes of your time, father?"

Ryder, Sr. laid aside the paper he was reading and looked up. It
was unusual for his son to come to him on any errand, and he liked
to encourage it.

"Certainly, Jefferson. What is it?"

"I want to appeal to you, sir. I want you to use your influence,
before it is too late, to save Judge Rossmore. A word from you at
this time would do wonders in Washington."

The financier swung half-round in his chair, the smile of greeting
faded out of his face, and his voice was hard as he replied
coldly:

"Again? I thought we had agreed not to discuss Judge Rossmore any
further?"

"I can't help it, sir," rejo