ch
was meant as an apology, "and if you're sick that ends it, but I've got
all them men to pay and--"

"Yes, I understand and I won't forget. Thank you, Mr. McGowan, and
good-night. Come along, Jack,--Corinne's worrying, and will be till I
get home."

The two kept silent as they walked up the hill Garry, because he was too
tired to discuss the cowardly attack; Jack, because what he had to say
must be said when they were alone,--when he could get hold of Garry's
hand and make him open his heart.

As they approached the small house and mounted the steps leading to the
front porch, Corinne's face could be seen pressed against a pane in one
of the dining-room windows. Garry touched Jack's arm and pointed ahead:

"Poor Cory!" he exclaimed with a deep sigh, "that's the way she is every
night. Coming home is sometimes the worst part of it all, Jack."

The door flew open and Corinne sprang out: "Are you tired, dear?" she
asked, peering into his face and kissing him. Then turning to Jack:
"Thank you, Jack!--It was so good of you to go. Ruth sent me word you
had gone to meet him."

She led the way into the house, relieving Garry of his hat, and moving
up an easy chair stood beside it until he had settled himself into its
depths.

Again she bent over and kissed him: "How are things to-day, dear?--any
better?" she inquired in a quavering voice.

"Some of them are better and some are worse, Cory; but there's nothing
for you to worry about. That's what I've been telling Jack. How's baby?
Anybody been here from the board?--Any letters?"

"Baby's all right," the words came slowly, as if all utterance gave her
pain. "No, there are no letters. Mr. McGowan was here, but I told him
you wouldn't be home till late."

"Yes, I saw him," replied Garry, dropping his voice suddenly to a
monotone, an expression of pain followed by a shade of anxiety settling
on his face: McGowan and his affairs were evidently unpleasant subjects.
At this instant the cry of a child was heard. Garry roused himself and
turned his head.

"Listen--that's baby crying! Better go to her, Cory."

Garry waited until his wife had left the room, then he rose from, his
chair, crossed to the sideboard, poured out three-quarters of a glass of
raw whiskey and drank it without drawing a breath.

"That's the first to-day, Jack. I dare not touch it when I'm on a strain
like this. Can't think clearly, and I want my head,--all of it. There's
a lot of sharks down in Ne