igned in the dock at the Old Bailey, there to plead and
stand trial like any common criminal.

And he fled. Of course, like all fugitives from justice throughout the
Old World, he looked to America for a city of refuge, and here he came.
Not to keep my readers too long from the main narrative, it will suffice
to say that soon after his arrival he applied for admission to the Bar
of New York, but first he won to his cause the high-souled Richard
O'Gorman, then a leader of his profession.

It was for Edwin James a lucky stroke, for at this time O'Gorman was in
full possession of his magnificent powers. Few could resist his magic.
His great heart was stirred, and he took up the cause of his friend as
if he had been his brother. The English lawyer's reputation was known to
every member of the Bar of New York, and there had been and still was a
bitter opposition to his admission; but when it became known that their
eloquent leader was his champion, many began to feel that after all "the
poor fellow ought to be given another chance," and when at the next
meeting of the Bar Association O'Gorman in a set oration brought all his
splendid eloquence into play the cause was won.

Great-hearted O'Gorman had helped this lame dog over the stile, but the
dog's heart was not in the right place, and, as my reader will see in
the sequel, he soon went lame again. * * *

* * * * *

In the rear room of a somewhat luxurious range of offices in a building
on Broadway, facing the City Hall, four men were engaged in discussing
what was evidently an exciting topic. The door of the main office bore
the sign "Edwin James, Counselor-at-Law and Register in Bankruptcy." He
was one of the four. He had failed lamentably in his efforts to secure a
practice. The effects of O'Gorman's eloquence had in the gray light of
commonplace day faded away, the more so when the ideal his magic had
created in the minds of men was in hourly contrast with the man himself
and his history. His professional brethren looked upon him with
suspicion, and there was a general impression abroad that his escapades
were not over yet.

He had launched out in his office and home somewhat extravagantly, and
now, once again pressed by clamorous creditors, he had once more drifted
upon the borderlands of crime, and was here with his companions planning
a criminal transaction in order to pay his more pressing debts.

One of these four was Brea, who,