g back into Aurora Lane's face as she straightened.
"You are a good man," said she. "I always knew it. I----"

He raised a hand once more. "These are business hours," said he, "and
believe me, no time is left for anyone to do anything but work on this
case."

"He's innocent, of course. He couldn't have done this--who was it, do
you think?"

"Oh, now, I don't _know_ who it was. It may have been Don himself. All
men are human. A lawyer has to look all the facts in any case square in
the face."

"But, my God! You can't think--you don't believe----"

"Please let me act as attorney. Now, I'm to blame in a sort of way in
this case. I started a good deal of this trouble. I gave your boy the
advice which threw him in jail--when I told him to thrash any man who
said a word against his mother--you. He's made a certain threat or two.
He's been found in very compromising circumstances indeed. The case
looks bad against him. Yes, he needs a lawyer--but he's got one! We'll
fight it through. You see," and he smiled again his wide and winning
smile, "all my life, I've had a sort of leaning for the under dog.

"Now," said he, abruptly rising, "I'm in this case, and I'm going to
take my chances. I've lost my chances on the Senatorship of the United
States. I've kept my promise to Henderson and I've sent word to our
central committee. I'm the under dog. But before all this is over, the
people of Spring Valley are going to know there are two sides to this
fight--and all these fights!

"Now, listen, Aurora," he went on in his careless paternal fashion, as
he walked, his great head drooped, his hands thrust into his pockets.
"Figure it over. Last night we three walked home together--before them
all. Everybody saw us. Everybody saw Tarbush. It can be proved that Don
left us and went over, following after Tarbush. It can be proved that he
was seen running away from that place--at just the wrong time--in just
the wrong way."

"But it was someone else who killed him--it wasn't my boy----"

"You can't convince a jury by assertions. If it was not this man, they
will ask, Who was it? Who was the other man, and why do you think so?
Now, who _was_ that other man, Aurora?"

"I don't know."

"Neither do I. But we've got to find him. There's no trace of him. But
as for Don, the boy, it's a trail, a plain one, and it leads----" He
threw out his hands widely, as though reluctant to name the truth.

"But," he went on, "if he isn't guilty som