won't make any difference with graduatin', will
it?"

Lindsay swallowed hard; his nerves were strained to snapping.

"Good God, no!" he shouted. He stepped to the French window, opened
it, and threw the revolver over the sill.

"Get out!" he said briefly, turning to the man, "get out of my
sight! If Jim ever receives another penny from you, I'll tell him
all I know."

The man swayed towards the chair. "Do you mean it?" he gasped,
"honest?"

He began to sob and choke a little, and turning half bent over the
chair, hunted with his hand for his hat.

"Get out!" Lindsay repeated violently, looking persistently
sidewise.

The man leaned over and fumbled for the picture on the floor, found
it and straightened himself.

Suddenly he leaped back and fell into the chair again; a dreadful
pallor reached the roots of his hair.

"All up, I guess--twice to-day--'Jim good-by," he said very quickly,
and rolled against Lindsay, the picture tight in his hand.

"Lin! If you don't come pretty soon"--Caroline pushed open the door
a little.

"Hush! Run and bring that whisky!" her cousin whispered, his face
drawn and frightened.

She waited outside while he labored mysteriously, breathing hard.

"Is Mr. Barker sick, Lin?" she whispered fearfully when he came back
to the door.

"Y--yes. I guess he's pretty sick," he said slowly, stepping out
with her and turning the knob carefully. The dining-room reeked with
the whisky on his hands and his coat.

"We'll go for the doctor," he went on, "both of us, because we'll
have to fix--I'll have to talk to you on the way. You needn't hurry
so, Caroline. There's no--we don't have to hurry." He tried the
outside door twice, to make sure it was latched, and glanced hastily
at the library windows.

"I'd better wire Uncle Joe," he said half to himself; "he'll know
what to do--oh, there's the dog. Come on, Hamlet--he's Buck
Williams's--gentle as a kitten."

"Yes, he'll know," she repeated, contentedly, reaching for Hamlet's
black muzzle.

"But I don't think that was right, do you, Lin, even for a joke?"
she queried, following him down the side path. The big hound padded
on behind them.

"No," he agreed briefly.

"Wasn't it funny he had one of your pins?" She was trotting rapidly,
to keep up with him.

Lindsay stopped short and almost faced her. He looked very young and
tired.

"I swear, Caroline, I believe worse men have worn it!" he said.

V

A PILLAR OF SOCIETY