is visitor and unostentatiously
slipping the key into his pocket, he sat down at the desk, waved
Merriman to a chair, and producing a box of cigars, passed it across.

The windows, Merriman noticed, were covered by heavy blinds, and it
was evident that no one could see into the room, nor could the light
be observed from without. The door behind him was locked, and in Mr.
Coburn's pocket was the key as well as a revolver, while Merriman was
unarmed. Moreover, Mr. Coburn was the larger and heavier, if not the
stronger man of the two. It was true his words and manner were those of
a friend, but the cold hatred in his eyes revealed his purpose. Merriman
instantly realized he was in very real personal danger, and it was borne
in on him that if he was to get out of that room alive, it was to his
own wits he must trust.

But he was no coward, and he did not forget to limp as he crossed the
room, nor did his hand shake as he stretched it out to take a cigar.
When he came within the radius of the lamp he noticed with satisfaction
that his coat was covered with fragments of moss and leaves, and he
rather ostentatiously brushed these away, partly to prove to the other
his calmness, and partly to draw attention to them in the hope that they
would be accepted as evidence of his fall.

Fearing lest if they began a desultory conversation he might be tricked
by his astute opponent into giving himself away, he left the latter no
opportunity to make a remark, but plunged at once into his subject.

"I feel myself, Mr. Coburn," he began, "not a little in your debt for
granting me this interview. But the matter on which I wish to speak to
you is so delicate and confidential, that I think you will agree that
any precautions against eavesdroppers are justifiable."

He spoke at first somewhat formally, but as interest in his subject
quickened, he gradually became more conversational.

"The first thing I have to tell you," he went on, "may not be very
pleasant hearing to you, but it is a matter of almost life and death
importance to me. I have come, Mr. Coburn, very deeply and sincerely to
love your daughter."

Mr. Coburn frowned slightly, but he did not seem surprised, nor did he
reply except by a slight bow. Merriman continued:

"That in itself need not necessarily be of interest to you, but there is
more to tell, and it is in this second point that the real importance
of my statement lies, and on it hinges everything that I have to s