next meal is coming from!" sneered the fellow.

"Abner, I gave you ten thousand dollars, and you promised to leave me
alone," protested the woman, afraid of the evil look that she now saw in
her worthless husband's face.

"Well, I haven't any of that money, and I've got to have more," retorted
Dexter emphatically. "Jennie, I want twenty-five thousand dollars. Give
me that, and I'll leave the country for good."

"I--I couldn't trust you," she faltered.

"Don't talk that way to me!"

"I have good reason to, Abner, and you know it."

"You thought I had forgotten you, didn't you?" he sneered harshly.

"I hoped that you had at last made up your mind to let me alone,"
replied the woman, trying to summon a bravery that she did not feel.

"I haven't forgotten you. Jennie, you will have to find and turn over to
me the twenty-five thousand dollars that I want. You will never know any
peace until you do do it, and you will never see me again after you have
given me the money. Now, aren't you going to be sensible?"

"Yes," she flashed. "I'm going to be too sensible to listen to you any
longer. You have been watching this house, and you came to-night because
you knew I was alone. If you won't go, at least I shall not stay here to
listen to you."

"Oh, yes, you will," replied the man angrily, barring the doorway.

At that instant the telephone bell in a niche in the hallway sounded.

"Let me answer that call," cried Mrs. Dexter.

"No, I won't!"

Then both heard, with very different feelings, a voice speaking these
words:

"Central, I am Dick Prescott, at Mrs. Dexter's. I shall probably be
interfered with. Call up the police station in a hurry and say that
Dexter is here, threatening Mrs. Dexter, who is without defense. I----"

Slam! Dick felt himself seized by the collar. He was banged up roughly
against the wall.

"You young hound!" blazed Ab. Dexter.

"Don't hurt him!" screamed Mrs. Dexter.

"I'll do as I please with this young hound!" snarled Dexter hoarsely.
"What right has he interfering with me in this manner? Come along, you
meddling youngster!"

As the telephone connection was still open, the girl at central office
was able to hear every word.

Ab. Dexter, still gripping struggling Prescott by the collar, dragged
him down the hallway and into the same room where he had recently been
talking with his unfortunate wife. Mrs. Dexter followed, pleading.

"What are you doing here?" blazed Dexter, giving