e, please."

Everett began the story of the children's running away, as the squatter
had told it to him, and of their coming to Horace. He did not forget to
add that he believed Shellington had lied to him the night he came into
the dining-room and discovered Fledra and Floyd with the two little
animals. When a shade passed over the governor's face, Everett quickly
noted that he had made a mistake in the drawing of conclusions.

"Don't be too hasty, Everett," cautioned Vandecar, shaking an ash
deliberately from his cigar. "Horace is the soul of truth. If he did not
tell it to you, he had good reasons."

Brimbecomb frowned. He could have bitten his tongue out for making that
misstep.

"That's so," he admitted. "But, ever since last September, Horace, and I
might say Ann, too, have drawn more and more away from me. For my part,
I see no good that can come of their relations with squatters."

"It was the most charitable act I have ever heard of," replied Vandecar.
"But you are straying from the case. Do I understand that you have taken
up the side of the father?"

"Yes."

"And that you intend to make a move to return his children to him?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

As Everett looked at the stern, unyielding man before him, his excuse to
Mrs. Vandecar seemed tame as it ran through his mind. The governor's
eyes were scanning him critically, almost dazzling him with their
steely gray. An expression in the steady gaze made him tremble; but he
took heart as he thought of the friendship between the governor and his
foster father.

"It's hardly fair to ask me why I took the case, which came to me in a
legitimate manner," said he. "I can see no reason why the man, although
poor, should not have his own children. Do you?"

It was a pointed question, and Vandecar waived it by saying:

"There are always circumstances surrounding these things, such as when
parents are cruel to their children, which might make it advisable,
almost imperative, to take the youngsters away and put them with
reputable people. I think Horace is of the impression that this is true
in the present case."

"Then is one man's opinion to be taken? Do you advise that?"

"No; but I do not yet understand why you should be interested against
your friends. I should think that, rather than disagree with them, you
would wish to have nothing to do with it."

Everett would have to use Ann again to convince the governor of his
right to act. It had been far easie