on't
give my word. It shouldn't be necessary. I guess I'll go. You're all
right, Mr. Ricaby, you're doing your best, but you get rattled. You lose
your head and you bark up the wrong tree. I guess that's where Cooley
doubled up on you." Reaching the door, he turned round: "I'm sorry you
don't believe me, Miss Marsh. I'll do all I can for you, but you're
kinder tying my hands. Good day, Mr. Ricaby--good-bye, Miss Marsh, and
good luck to you."

"Oh, don't go, Mr. Chase," exclaimed Paula, going towards him. "I don't
believe----"

"Yes, I guess I'd better go," he replied doggedly, "he's your counsel.
Good-bye!"

The door closed behind him. He was gone. Mr. Ricaby turned to the girl:

"Paula," he said earnestly, "we must trust no one. They won't stop at
anything, as you see. They even had me arrested on a ridiculous charge.
I was trying to borrow money--to carry on this case--to engage
ex-Senator Wratchett. Mr. Chase knew this, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"You see, he knows everything. I'm afraid he's a spy."

The girl shook her head. She was too good a judge of human nature to be
so easily deceived.

"I can't believe it," she said quietly. "I don't believe it."

"At all events," said the lawyer, "we dare not risk taking him into our
confidence any more. Listen, I've raised the money, and I'm going to see
Wratchett to-night."

"Why did they arrest you?"

"Because I overlooked the formality of having a certificate of shares
endorsed over to me. As soon as I could get word to my friend, who
loaned me the securities, he came down and the magistrate released me at
once, but the stigma of arrest, of accusation, of prison, is there.
That's what Cooley wants--to discredit me in court. Cooley knows that if
he throws enough mud some of it is bound to stick."

The young girl made a gesture of discouragement. Sinking down in a chair
at the table, she said wearily:

"Oh, I'm so tired of it all. Let's give it up, Mr. Ricaby. Let's go to
my uncle and make the best bargain we can. I was hasty before. I'll be
more patient this time."

The lawyer shook his head.

"Now that I have the sinews of war?" he cried. "No! We'll win out;
you'll see. They must be pretty desperate when they resort to such
tactics as false arrest. No, by God! I'm going to stick to them now."

Paula walked to the window, and, drawing aside the curtain, gazed
thoughtfully into the street below.

"Isn't there some way out of it?" she demanded. "If, for inst