rview with her at the Anita Lawton Club; and a
tall, grizzled, smooth-shaven man, who held himself proudly erect, as
if the weight of years had fallen from his shoulders.

"Yes, sir, I'm Brunell," the latter announced, when the incidental
salutations were over, "--Jimmy Brunell, the forger. I've lived
straight, and tried to keep the truth from my little girl, for her own
sake, but perhaps it is better as it is. She knows everything now, and
has forgiven much, because she's a woman like her mother, God bless
her! I've come of my own free will, to tell you all you want to know,
and prove it, too!"

"Sit down, all of you. Brunell, you forged the signature to the
mortgage on Pennington Lawton's home, at Paddington's instigation?"

"Yes, sir. And the signature on the note given for the loan from
Moore, and the whole letter supposed to be from Mr. Lawton to Mallowe,
asking him to procure that loan for him, and all the other crooked
business which helped sweep Mr. Lawton's fortune away. But I didn't
understand how big the job was, nor just what they were trying to put
over, or I wouldn't have done it. I wish to heaven I hadn't, now, but
it's too late for that; I can only do what's left me to help repair
the damage. I wish I'd taken the consequences Paddington threatened me
with, through Charley Pennold--curse them both!

"For it wasn't because of the money I did it, sir, although what they
offered me was a small fortune, and would have been a mighty hard
temptation in the old days. It was because if I refused they were
going to strike at me through my little girl, the one thing on earth
I've got left to love! They were going to have me sent up on an old
score which no one else even had suspected I'd been mixed up in. I
didn't know--until just now when this young friend here, Mr. Morrow,
told me--that it had been outlawed long years ago, and I can see that
they counted on my not knowing. How they found out about it, anyway,
is a mystery to me, but that Paddington is the devil himself! However,
if I didn't do the trick for them, they'd have me convicted, and once
out of the way, my little girl would be helpless in their hands. They
talked of sweatshops, and worse--"

The old man broke down, and shuddering, covered his face with his thin
fingers. But in a moment, before the pitying, outstretched hand of his
daughter could reach his shoulder, he had regained control of himself,
and resumed:

"I did what they asked of me--al