se steps, and went down the long corridor to
the rear of the building. Here they passed out through wide doors and
into a narrow yard that separated the court-house from the jail.
Crossing this sandy strip they entered the sheriff's office. Conklin
paused; North gazed at him inquiringly.

"It's too bad, John," said the sheriff.

Then without further words he led North to a door opposite that by which
they had entered. It opened on a long brick-paved passageway, at the end
of which was a flight of narrow stairs. Ascending these North found
himself in another long hall. Conklin paused before the first of three
doors on the right and pushed it open.

"I guess this will do, John!" he said.

North stepped quickly in and glanced about him. The room held an iron
bedstead, a wooden chair and, by the window which overlooked the jail
yard and an alley beyond, a wash-stand with a tin basin and pitcher.

"Say, ain't you going to see a lawyer?" asked the sheriff. "He may be
able to get you out of this, you can't tell--"

"Can you send a message to young Watt Harbison for me?" interrupted
North.

"Certainly, but you don't call him much of a lawyer, do you? I tell you,
John, you want a _good_ lawyer; what's the matter with Marsh Langham?"

"Watt will do for the present. He can tell me the one or two things I
need to know now," rejoined North indifferently.

"All right, I'll send for him then."

The sheriff quitted the room, closing and locking the door after him.
North heard his footsteps die out in the long passage. At last he was
alone! He threw himself down on the cot for manhood seemed to forsake
him.

"My God,--Elizabeth--" he groaned and buried his face in his hands.

The law had lifted a sinister finger and leveled it at him.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

LIGHT IN DARKNESS

The expression on General Herbert's face was one of mingled doubt and
impatience.

"You must be mistaken, Thompson!" he was saying to his foreman, who had,
with the coming of night, returned from an errand in town.

"General, there's no mistake; every one was talking about it! Looks like
the police had something to go on, too--"

He hesitated, suddenly remembering that John North had been a frequent
guest at Idle Hour.

"I had heard that Mr. North was wanted as a witness," observed the
general.

"No, they say Moxlow had his eye on him from the start!" rejoined the
foreman with repressed enthusiasm for Moxlow.

The general sensed the