erywhere, even when engaged in the
most serious work of his profession. He was the hardest man in the
department to comprehend, and yet he was without a peer in frankness and
good nature. Nick's genial spirit had somewhat restored job to his usual
equanimity, and Nick knew it.

"It seems, Job," remarked Hanson, "that there were three of those
rascals, and they divided the spoils equally. Let me see--Thurston,
McLaren, and Blair. There is only one left. Is there no way to find out
which it is? Two have been exempted from further prosecution, and I
suppose the third one will be, if the money is given up."

"Would you know the third one if you could come across him, Nick?"

"Yes," replied Hanson, "I would know them all anywhere. And I think I
could find McLaren, but since I believe he is one of the men
forgiven--having given up the money--I don't want him. Blair is the
fellow we want. Good-by, Job, I'm going away."

And it was four months before these two friends met again during which
interval one of them, at least, had an eventful experience.

CHAPTER VIII

FURTHER DIAGNOSIS

Doctor Marmion, of New York, was greatly drawn toward his young patient
at the Monastery, and as he saw him daily wasting away, he concluded that
something more than medicine was needed to save his life. The secretary
still dragged himself through each day's work, spending the evening in
his room with Tom. The day after the doctor's arrival the second time,
Tom being in school and Bishop Albertson away, he found himself in the
office alone with Carl. He had hardly hoped for so early an opportunity
to interview his interesting patient. But taking advantage of the
opportunity, exclaimed:

"Well, Carl, you have improved, I hope, since I was here?"

"I fear there has not been much improvement in my physical condition; nor
do I much expect any; and, really, to tell you the truth, Doctor, I am
almost wishing for the end," was the young man's reply.

"Carl," said Dr. Marmion in earnest tones, "if you would give me your
confidence, I feel sure that I could help you, and I will be candid with
you. If you don't give that confidence to someone, it will only be the
worse for you. Disease is not the only thing that kills."

"Doctor," was the quiet reply, "I sincerely thank you for the interest
you take in me, but really your words give me pleasure instead of
anxiety. Truly, it is not unpleasant to be warned that I have no
assurance of life.