hen the judge pronounced the awful words: "...Hanged by the neck till
you are dead." Shay sat stunned for a minute, then, when the jailor
tapped his shoulder, rose and walked silently forth to the cell of the
doomed.

It is the hour of trial that sifts out your friends. There were two at
least who followed every move in that crowded court room--Hartigan and
his wife. They had learned that the crude, brutal exterior of the
prizefighter held a heart that was warm and true. They had learned that
they could go to him with certainty of success when they wanted help for
some struggling man or woman in their ward. They knew that he would not
drive a bargain for his help, nor plaster his gift with religious
conditions. It was enough for him to know that a fellow-being was in
need and that he had the power to help him. Shay was a product of
submergence and evil system; he was wrong in his theories, wrong in his
methods, wrong in his life; but his was a big, strong spirit--ever kind.
And out of the strange beginnings there had grown a silent but real
friendship between the Hartigans and himself.

On the black day of the verdict and the sentence, Belle and Jim were
sadly sitting at home. "Jim," she said, "I know he didn't do it; his
story is so simple and sound. It's easy to get human blood if you have a
friend in the hospital; he is innocent. We know that Squeaks could
easily have access to a room upstairs; that bundle may have been thrown
out from the window merely as a part of a plot. Everything is against
Shay now because he is in wrong with the party; but, surely, there is
something we can do."

"His attorney asked for an appeal, but I am afraid it won't be
entertained; there is no new evidence--no reason for delay that they can
see or wish to see."

"That attorney has behaved very suspiciously, I think. Don't you think
the governor might intervene with at least a commutation?" she
suggested.

"The governor! His worst enemy," said Jim. "The governor's been after
him for years."

Hope seemed gone. They sat in silence; then she said: "Pray, Jim; maybe
light will come." And together they prayed that the God of justice and
mercy would send his light down among them and guide them in this awful
time. It was a short and simple prayer, followed by a long silence.

Belle spoke: "There is only one thing that can be done; that is find
Squeaks. I know he is living somewhere yet, gloating probably over the
success of his plan to