: _he_ got me to do it--the
scoundrel! He wanted me to give it to him; but I swore to him I had lost
it, too. I thought it would be of use some of these days." A gleam of
the old craftiness shone in his eyes.

Keith gazed at the man in amazement. His unblushing effrontery staggered
him.

"Would you mind letting me see that certificate?"

Plume hesitated and licked his ups like a dog held back from a bone.
Keith noted it.

"I do not want you to think that I will give you any money for it, for I
will not," he added quietly, his gray eyes on him.

For a moment Plume was so taken aback that his face became a blank.
Then, whether it was that the very frankness of the speech struck home
to him or that he wished to secure a fragment of esteem from Keith, he
recovered himself.

"I don't expect any money for it, Mr. Keith. I don't want any money for
it. I will not only show you this paper, I will give it to you."

"It is not yours to give," said Keith. "It belongs to Mrs. Wickersham. I
will see that she gets it if you deliver it to me."

"That's so," ejaculated Plume, as if the thought had never occurred to
him before. "I want her to have it, but you'd better keep it for her.
That man will get it away from her. You don't know him as I do. You
don't know what he'd do on a pinch. I tell you he is a gambler for life.
I have seen him sit at the board and stake sums that would have made me
rich for life. Besides," he added, as if he needed some other reason for
giving it up, "I am afraid if he knew I had it he'd get it from me in
some way."

He walked forward and handed the paper to Keith, who saw at a glance
that it was what Plume had declared it to be: a marriage certificate,
dirty and worn, but still with signatures that appeared to be genuine.
Keith's eyes flashed with satisfaction as he read the name of the Rev.
William H. Rimmon and Plume's name, evidently written with the same ink
at the same time.

"Now," said Keith, looking up from the paper, "I will see that Mrs.
Wickersham's family is put in possession of this paper."

"Couldn't you lend me a small sum, Mr. Keith," asked Plume, wheedlingly,
"just for old times' sake? I know I have done you wrong and given you
good cause to hate me, but it wasn't my fault, an' I've done you a favor
to-day, anyhow."

Keith looked at him for a second, and put his hand in his pocket.

"I'll pay you back, as sure as I live--" began Plume, cajolingly.

"No, you will not," said