belong to someone else. However, such fellows
always overreach themselves."

"But he could not do it, father. He could not do it!" cried the girl.

"A man of Stepaside's character could do anything." He was almost calm
now, and able to consider the bearings of the case judicially. "The
thing has been growing for years. Event after event has prepared the
way for it. Stepaside has never forgiven the Wilsons for sending him
to prison. As you know, too, he has always hated me for that.
Besides, Stepaside has always had the belief that Wilson has been
trying to ruin him financially. You know what was said during the
election? There have been rumours lately to the effect that this
fellow and his partner have lost a good deal of money. Very likely he
tried to fasten that on Wilson; and so in the end he murdered him. But
we shall see! We shall see! There will be more detailed news
presently."

"But he could never have done it!" and the girl reiterated it with
weary monotony. It seemed to her as though she must fight for Paul
Stepaside's life, as though she were called upon to proclaim his
innocence.

"Who else could have done it?" said the Judge. "Don't you see, events
must have pointed to him clearly, or they would never have dared to
apprehend him. Besides, Ned Wilson hadn't an enemy in Brunford besides
Stepaside; no other in the world as far as I know. The Wilsons have
always been kind masters, always popular with their employees. Ned was
a general favourite in the town. He's always borne a good character,
too. During the years we've known him, there's never been a breath
against him. Yes, it's all plain enough. But I must make inquiries,
and find out."

He wandered round the room for more than a minute like one demented,
while the girl sat watching him with a hard, fearsome look in her eyes.

"Do you remember what he said that night when I was elected for
Brunford?" said the Judge presently. "Do you remember how he defied
me, and proclaimed savagely that we should meet again, and always to
fight? Well, it seems as though we shall meet again, but this time it
will be as judge and criminal!"

"But, father," cried the girl, "you don't mean that you would ever sit
in judgment on him?"

"It seems probable that it will be so," said Mr. Bolitho, after a
moment's reflection. "Yes, and I will see that he shall have justice,
too, full justice. The atheistic scoundrel! You can now see the
logical