detective,
half-musingly; "though he's as proud as the best of 'em. Neither is it
any sort of make-believe, or _I_ wouldn't be caught by it.
'Tis--'tis--what?" And Hickory rubbed his nose with his thoughtful
forefinger, and looked inquiringly at Mr. Byrd.

"How should I know?" remarked the other, tossing his stump of a cigar
into the fire. "Mr. Mansell is too deep a problem for me."

"And Miss Dare too?"

"_And_ Miss Dare."

Silence followed this admission, which Hickory broke at last by
observing:

"The day that sees _her_ on the witness stand will be interesting, eh?"

"It is not far off," declared Mr. Byrd.

"No?"

"I think she will be called as a witness to-morrow."

"Have you noticed," began Hickory again, after another short interval of
quiet contemplation, "that it is only when Miss Dare is present that
Mansell wears the look of scorn I have just mentioned."

"Hickory," said Mr. Byrd, wheeling directly about in his chair and for
the first time surveying his colleague squarely, "I have noticed _this_.
That ever since the day she made her first appearance in the court-room,
she has sat with her eyes fixed earnestly upon the prisoner, and that he
has never answered her look by so much as a glance in her direction.
This has but one explanation as I take it. He never forgets that it is
through her he has been brought to trial for his life."

Mr. Byrd uttered this very distinctly, and with a decided emphasis. But
the impervious Hickory only settled himself farther back in his chair,
and stretching his feet out toward the fire, remarked dryly:

"Perhaps I am not much of a judge of human nature, but I should have
said now that this Mansell was not a man to treat her contemptuously for
that. Rage he might show or hatred, but this quiet ignoring of her
presence seems a little too dignified for a criminal facing a person he
has every reason to believe is convinced of his guilt."

"Ordinary rules don't apply to this man. Neither you nor I can sound his
nature. If he displays contempt, it is because he is of the sort to feel
it for the woman who has betrayed him."

"You make him out mean-spirited, then, as well as wicked?"

"I make him out human. More than that," Mr. Byrd resumed, after a
moment's thought, "I make him out consistent. A man who lets his
passions sway him to the extent of committing a murder for the purpose
of satisfying his love or his ambition, is not of the unselfish cast
that would apprec