The other man laughed mirthlessly. "He is the one person from whom I'd
keep--this," he said shortly. "He--he--cares for me--now...."

Good's voice changed again, and grew soft. "Judge," he asked quietly,
almost indifferently, "what caused it all?"

The old man's fine white head fell on his chest, and Good felt glad, for
him, in his bitter shame, that it was dark.

"I had rather not speak of that," he said wearily. "What is done is
done." He rose to go. Good waited until his hand was on the doorknob.

"Wait," he whispered chokingly. His voice was lifeless. "I was joking,
you know. It's all right. It's all right," he repeated, as if the words
were forced from him. "The story's dead."

"I don't understand...."

"The story's killed, I tell you. You can read to-morrow's _Dispatch_
without a tremble."

"You mean...?" The old man was clutching at his collar as if it hurt
him. "You mean...?"

"For the third time--the story's dead."

"Did Roger--?"

"He knows nothing about it."

"Then you--it _was_ you?"

"Yes--it was I." The Judge never forgot the unutterable hopelessness of
Good's tone as those four words crept slowly from him.

"How can I ever...." The old man made for Good, his hand outstretched.
But the latter recoiled.

"I'd rather you wouldn't. You owe me--nothing."

The Judge hesitated, not knowing what to do or say. Good was the first
to speak, a subtle note in his voice, not easy to analyse.

"That liability law," he said abruptly. "It's constitutional?"

"I--er--think so."

"You're certain of it?" Good's voice had suddenly become like steel, and
the old man seemed to grow visibly smaller before the keen eyes
penetrating to the innermost recesses of his soul.

"Yes--I--I'm quite sure of it."

"Your mind is fully made up, of course." The meaning behind the words
was unmistakable. The Judge took his cue at once.

"Absolutely."

"Good night," said Good.

"But I--" The Judge hesitated.

"Good night," repeated the tall man with a finality which brooked no
question.

The old man stood embarrassedly looking at him for a moment. Then he
went out, softly closing the door behind him.

Good sat staring after him, a crooked little smile twisting his lips,
his body looking oddly shrunken and weak.

And there he sat unmoving, until he heard the rumble of the trucks in
the street below and knew that the first edition was on its way to the
world. Then he went out.

From his office he went down