omatose silence of lethargy.

Colonel Wallifarro's face, too, had become drawn and distrait. For a
time he paced the floor up and down without a word, his hands tight held
at his back and his head bowed low on his breast. As he walked, Masters,
from his chair by the table, followed his movements with eyes that held
no light except that of fear and wretchedness.

Finally the lawyer halted before the chair. His brow was drawn, but in
face and attitude was the pronouncement of a decision reached. Tom
Wallifarro had been wrestling with complex and intermingled elements of
the problem as he walked. When he halted, the shifting perplexities had
resolved and settled into determination.

"I've got to see you through this, Larry, and it's going to be a hard
scratch. I suppose you think of me as wealthy. Most people do, but it's
necessary to be frank with you. I have a very handsome practice, and I
have for many years lived well up to that income--at times I've
overstepped the boundary. I have my farm in Woodford and my house in
town. I have a considerable insurance, and that about sums up my
resources. I draw from the running channel of my law fees and it's a
generous flow, but one I've never dammed providently into a reservoir of
surplus. If I have to raise twenty thousand dollars off-hand, I shall
have to borrow. Thank God my credit will stand it."

"But, Tom"--Masters broke chokingly off.

"Please don't try to thank me."

"Not perhaps for myself, but I happen to know that your means have
supported not only your own family but my family as well."

"Larry,"--Colonel Wallifarro spoke in a harder tone than was customary
with him--"your folly has been almost criminal ... but if it meant
stripping myself to beggary I couldn't see Anne's father accused of a
breach of trust. Even if I cared nothing for you, my boy, it would come
to the same thing. I fancy I shall sell the farm."

"My God!" groaned Masters. "It's the apple of your eye, Tom."

Colonel Wallifarro fumbled for a cigar and lighted it, saying nothing
for a time. When he spoke it was with an irrelevant change of topic.

"Not quite, Larry. The apple of my eye is a dream. If, before I die, I
can trot a grandchild on my knee--a child with Morgan's will and Anne's
fine-fibred sweetness--" he paused a moment and then gave a short
laugh--"then I could contentedly strike my tent for the beyond."

"I'm afraid her heart--"

Colonel Wallifarro raised a hand in interruptio