arch for the gun. He found it and
hid it under a bed. Then he turned his attention to Lyman's room. The
apartment was approached by an encased stairway, leading from the
sitting-room. He lifted the latch and listened, the old man was
snoring; the young man felt like a thief; but that was to be expected,
and therefore did not alarm his conscience. The stairs creaked, still
he did not pause. The door of Lyman's room, to the left at the head of
the stairs, was not locked. Sawyer struck a match and stepped inside.
He lighted a lamp and looked about the room. On the table lay sheets
of paper, some of them covered with close, nervous writing, and upon
others were scratches, half-formed words, the tracks of a mind
wandering in a bog. He pulled open the table drawer and eagerly
grabbed up a pistol. Then he turned out the light and walked hastily
down the stairs. Old Jasper was still asleep, his head on one side,
like an old hawk worn out with a long fight. Sawyer put the pistol on
the side-board, behind a tin tray standing on edge, and then sat down
to wait. It was nearly time for the "boys" to come. He heard a key in
the front door lock, and he put out the light. The door opened and
closed, the latch of the stair door clicked; he heard Lyman going up
to his room.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE "BOOSY."

Lyman had been helping Warren with the work of putting the paper to
press, and he was tired, but when he had lighted the lamp he drew the
writing paper toward him, and took up a pen, turning it between his
fingers, as if waiting for a word, but it did not come, and he sat
there musing. His heart was heavy, though not with a sadness, but with
an overweight of gentleness, a consciousness that he stood as a
protector to bide the time of the lover's coming. He was proud, but
had no vanity. He knew that he could win friendship, for in friendship
a strong and rugged quality was a factor, but he did not realize that
the same rugged quality appealed to a deeper affection. In his work he
saw the character of woman, and he could fancy her capricious enough
to give her heart to the most awkward of men, but when he turned this
light upon himself, so many blemishes were brought out that he stepped
back from the glaring revelation. He believed that in his peculiar
position Eva gave him the affection that a daughter might give a
father, and he was determined that this charming relationship should
not be undone by the appearance, on his part,