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he sheriff wagged his head. "He's no ways rich--not beyond four dollars and seventy-five cents and a pocket knife and some keys on a ring. He's broke, all right." "He's never been anything else," said Anne Oglesby, hotly. "He's never had a chance. Do you want to keep a man from his chance all his life--do you want to help railroad him to the gallows? That's for the courts, not for you. Do you want to hang a man--are you anxious to begin that?" Cowles' face grew pale. "God knows I don't! I never done that in my life, and I don't want to have to, neither. Don't talk about that to me, Miss." "Then don't talk to me any more about those other things. I give you my word I'll not try to get him out, but I want to see him--I must see him--he'll want to see me. Don't you know--we've--we've just begun to be engaged." "Some things I can't understand no ways," pondered Sheriff Cowles. "He's nobody, so far as I can learn. You're the Judge's ward--why, you're rich, they say." "I'd give every cent I have to see him walk out right now. I suppose you were young once yourself. Were you ever in love, Mr. Cowles?" "Yes," said the sheriff, slowly. "I was--I am yet, some. I can remember back. I don't believe I ought to let you in. But I'm afraid I'll have to, because you are young--like we all was once--and because you're in love. Did anyone see you coming over here?" "I don't know; but all the town knows about him and me. Well, let them." "You must promise not to help him in any way to get out--not to do anything you hadn't ought to do, nor against the law." "I give you my promise," said Anne Oglesby. Without more speech the sheriff turned and led the way down the stone-paved hall to the short cement stairs which made down upon the half-floor below, at the level of the cells. He turned the switch of an electric light, so that they might see the better in the hall. There was but one tenant, and from beyond his door there came no sound, not even when Cowles unlocked the iron-shod door and stood, his revolver easy at his belt. As Anne entered she saw Don Lane sitting on the edge of the narrow pallet, looking at the door. He had not risen. He had been sitting with his head in his hands. He groaned now. "My God!" said he. "Anne! What made you come?" [Illustration: "Anne! What made you come?"] The sheriff stepped within the door at the side of Anne Oglesby. "I'd stay about ten minutes or so if I was you," said he
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