sponsible for the death of a woman caused by her
own immorality? The woman whose death Mr. Hale has turned to such
oratorical account was, I take it, a prostitute--"

"That is a damned lie!"

Hal Surtaine came down the aisle in long strides, speaking as he came.

"Milly Neal was my employee and my father's employee. If she went astray
once, who are you to judge her? Who are any of us to judge her? I took
part of that blood-money. The advertisement was in my paper, paid for
with Surtaine money. What Mr. Hale says is the living truth. No man
shall foul her memory in my hearing."

"And what was she to you? You haven't told us that yet?" There was a
rancid sneer in Pierce's insinuation.

Hal turned from the aisle and went straight for him. A little man rose
in his way. It was Mintz, who had given him the heartening word after
the committee meeting. In his blind fury Hal struck him a staggering
blow. But the little Jew was plucky. He closed with the younger man, and
clinging to him panted out his good advice.

"Don'd fighd 'im, nod here. It's no good. Go to the pladform an' say
your say. We'll hear you."

But it was impossible to hear any one now. Uproar broke loose. Men
shouted, stormed, cursed; the meeting was become a rabble. Above the din
could be distinguished at intervals the voice of the Honorable Brett
Harkins, who, in frantic but not illogical reversion to the idea of a
political convention, squalled for the services of the sergeant-at-arms.
There was no sergeant-at-arms.

Mintz's pudgy but clogging arms could restrain an athlete of Hal's power
only a brief moment; but in that moment sanity returned to the
fury-heated brain.

"I beg your pardon, Mintz," he said; "you're quite right. I thank you
for stopping me."

He returned to the aisle, pressing forward, with what purpose he could
hardly have said, when he felt the sinewy grasp of McGuire Ellis on his
shoulder.

"Tell 'em the whole thing," fiercely urged Ellis. "Be a man. Own up to
the whole business, between you and the girl."

"I don't know what you mean!" cried Hal.

"Don't be young," groaned Ellis; "you've gone halfway. Clean it up. Then
we can face the situation with the 'Clarion.' Tell 'em you were her
lover."

"Milly's? I wasn't. It was Veltman."

"Good God of Mercy!"

"Did you think--"

"Yes;--Lord forgive me! Why didn't you tell me?"

"How could I tell you suspected--"

"All right! I know. We'll talk it out later. The big thing n