f his eyes showed want of sleep,
and the relaxed muscles of his face exhaustion from weariness and
suffering. He drew the person with whom I had been talking aside, and
continued an earnest conversation with him for many minutes--often
gesticulating violently. I could see his face, though I heard nothing
of what he said. The play of his features was painful to look upon, for
every changing muscle showed a new phase of mental suffering.

"Try and see him, will you not?" he said, as he turned, at length, to
leave the office.

"I will go there immediately," was answered.

"Bring him home, if possible."

"My very best efforts shall be made."

Judge Hammond bowed and went out hurriedly.

"Do you know the number of the room occupied by the man Green?" asked
the gentleman, as soon as his visitor had retired.

"Yes. It is No. 11."

"Willy has not been home since last night. His father, at this late
day, suspects Green to be a gambler. The truth flashed upon him only
yesterday; and this, added to his other sources of trouble, is driving
him, so he says, almost mad. As a friend, he wishes me to go to the
'Sickle and Sheaf,' and try and find Willy. Have you seen any thing of
him this morning?"

I answered in the negative.

"Nor of Green?"

"No."

"Was Slade about when you left the tavern?"

"I saw nothing of him."

"What Judge Hammond fears may be all too true--that, in the present
condition of Willy's affairs, which have reached the point of disaster,
his tempter means to secure the largest possible share of property yet
in his power to pledge or transfer,--to squeeze from his victim the
last drop of blood that remains, and then fling him, ruthlessly, from
his hands."

"The young man must have been rendered almost desperate, or he would
never have returned, as he did, last night. Did you mention this to his
father?"

"No. It would have distressed him the more, without effecting any good.
He is wretched enough. But time passes, and none is to be lost now.
Will you go with me?"

I walked to the tavern with him; and we went into the bar together. Two
or three men were at the counter, drinking.

"Is Mr. Green about this morning?" was asked by the person who had come
in search of young Hammond.

"Haven't seen any thing of him."

"Is he in his room?"

"I don't know."

"Will you ascertain for me?"

"Certainly. Frank,"--and he spoke to the landlord's son, who was
lounging on a settee,--"I wish you would