ferring with you, Bristow, Fulton, and Abrahamson. Please
arrange meeting of all these Bristow's bungalow eight tonight. Withers
not with me.'"

"That fits in," Bristow commented; "lets me start for New Orleans on the
late night train."

"Wonder what he's got," the chief questioned. "Do you know?"

"No. And I don't believe it amounts to anything. Still, if he wants to
talk, we might as well hear it."

"Sure! You can count on me. I'll be there."

"All right," said Bristow. "I'll see you at eight, then."

He went to the sleeping porch and lay down.

"'Withers not with me,'" the last words of the telegram lingered in his
mind. "Why did he add that? What's that to do with a conference here
tonight?"

Suddenly the answer occurred to him.

"It's Withers!" he thought, at first only half-credulous. "He's going to
put it on Withers; he's going to try to put it on Withers."

He paused, thinking "wild" for a moment, so great was his surprise.

"It was Withers he was after from the start,--was it?"

CHAPTER XXVII

THE REVELATION

Braceway and Maria Fulton had upon their faces that expression which
announces a happy understanding between lovers. The light of surrender
was in her eyes, contented surrender to the man who, because of his love,
had asserted his mastery of her. And his voice, as he spoke to her, was
all a vibrant tenderness. He realized that he had found and finally made
certain his happiness, had done so at the very moment of making public
his greatest professional triumph.

For his visit to her he had stolen a half-hour from the rush of work that
had devolved upon him since reaching Furmville a few hours ago. He found
her as he had expected; she fulfilled his prophecy that, in following her
own ideals, she would take her place in the world as a fascinating
personality, a lovable woman.

But, while he studied and praised her new charm, he was conscious, more
keenly so than ever before, that his success would affect her greatly,
would challenge all her strength and courage. And yet, even if it hurt
her, it had to be done. It was his duty, and the consequences would have
to take care of themselves.

Although, in her turn, she regarded him with the fine intuition of the
woman who loves, she got no intimation of his worry. He had determined
not to burden her with the details in advance. If what he was about to do
should link her dead sister with a pitiless scandal, she would meet it
brave