llen intends only what is right. I'm content to leave
the matter entirely with you and him," Hardy said.

Jeff turned to Rawson. "And you, old warhorse?"

"Have it your own way, but don't forget there's a nigger in the
woodpile."

Jeff and Killen walked to the office of the latter, which was on the
next floor of the Century Building, the legislator stiffening his will
to resist the assaults he felt would be made upon it. But as soon as the
door was shut Jeff surprised him by laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Tell me all about it, Sam."

Killen gasped. He got an impossible vision of young Farnum as his
brother in trouble. "About what? I didn't say--"

"I've known for a week something was wrong. I couldn't very well ask
you, but since I've blundered in you'd better let me help you if I can."

Killen was touched. His lip trembled. "It don't do any good to talk
about things. I guess a fellow has to carry his own griefs. Nobody else
is hunting for a chance to invest in them."

"What's a friend for?" Jeff wanted to know gently.

The little man gulped. "I guess I've got no friends. Anyhow they don't
count when a fellow's in hard luck. It's every man for himself."

The younger man's smile was warm as summer sunshine. "Wrong guess, Sam.
We're in this little old world to help each other when we can."

The wretched man drew the back of a trembling hand across his moist
eyes. He inhaled a long sobbing breath and broke into apology for his
weakness. "Haven't slept for a week except from trional. The back of my
head pricks day and night. Can't think of anything but my troubles."

"Unload them on me," Jeff said lightly.

"It's that mortgage on my mill," Killen blurted out. "It falls due this
month and I can't meet it. Things haven't been going well with me."

"Can't you get it renewed?"

"Through a dummy Big Tim has bought it up. He won't renew, unless--"
Killen broke off, to continue in a moment: "And that ain't all. My
little girl needs an operation awful badly. The doctor says she had
ought to go to Chicago. I just can't raise the price."

"How much is the mortgage?"

"Three thousand," replied the man; and he added with a gust of weak
despair, "My God, man! That mill's all I've got to keep bread in the
mouths of my motherless children."

"I reckon Big Tim has offered to cancel the mortgage notes and give you
about a thousand to go on," Jeff suggested casually.

Killen nodded. "It would put me on my feet again a