ntly as he could.

"Then I shall kill him," said the old man, quietly.

Keith was in his office one morning when his attention was arrested by a
heavy step outside his door. It had something familiar in it. Then he
heard his name spoken in a loud voice. Some one was asking for him, and
the next moment the door opened and Squire Rawson stood on the
threshold. He looked worn; but his face was serene. Keith's intuition
told him why he had come; and the old man did not leave it in any doubt.
His greeting was brief.

He had gotten to New York only that morning, and had already been to
Wickersham's office; but the office was shut.

"I have come to find her," he said, "and I'll find her, or I'll drag him
through this town by his neck." He took out a pistol and laid it by him
on the table.

Keith was aghast. He knew the old man's resolution. His face showed that
he was not to be moved from it. Keith began to argue with him. They did
not do things that way in New York, he said. The police would arrest
him. Or if he should shoot a man he would be tried, and it would go hard
with him. He had better give up his pistol. "Let me keep it for you,"
he urged.

The old man took up the pistol and felt for his pocket.

"I'll find her or I'll kill him," he said stolidly. "I have come to do
one or the other. If I do that, I don't much keer what they do with me.
But I reckon some of 'em would take the side of a woman what's been
treated so. Well, I'll go on an' wait for him. How do you find this here
place?" He took out a piece of paper and, carefully adjusting his
spectacles, read a number. It was the number of Wickersham's office.

Keith began to argue again; but the other's face was set like a rock. He
simply put up his pistol carefully. "I'll kill him if I don't find her.
Well, I reckon somebody will show me the way. Good day." He went out.

The moment his footsteps had died away, Keith seized his hat and dashed
out.

The bulky figure was going slowly down the street, and Keith saw him
stop a man and show him his bit of paper. Keith crossed the street and
hurried on ahead of him. Wickersham's office was only a few blocks away,
and a minute later Keith rushed into the front office. The clerks hooked
up in surprise at his haste. Keith demanded of one of them if Mr.
Wickersham was in. The clerk addressed turned and looked at another man
nearer the door of the private office, who shook his head warningly. No,
Mr. Wickersham was no