embled with
ill-suppressed emotion, "do you know who killed her?"

Ellis felt a surging pity for his old friend; but every step that he had
taken toward the jail had confirmed and strengthened his own resolution
that this contemplated crime, which he dimly felt to be far more
atrocious than that of which Sandy was accused, in that it involved a
whole community rather than one vicious man, should be stopped at any
cost. Deplorable enough had the negro been guilty, it became, in view of
his certain innocence, an unspeakable horror, which for all time would
cover the city with infamy. "Mr. Delamere," he replied, looking the
elder man squarely in the eyes, "I think I do,--and I am very sorry."

"And who was it, Mr. Ellis?"

He put the question hopelessly, as though the answer were a foregone
conclusion.

"I do not wish to say at present," replied Ellis, with a remorseful
pang, "unless it becomes absolutely necessary, to save the negro's life.
Accusations are dangerous,--as this case proves,--unless the proof, be
certain."

For a moment it seemed as though Mr. Delamere would collapse upon the
spot. Rallying almost instantly, however, he took the arm which Ellis
involuntarily offered, and said with an effort:--

"Mr. Ellis, you are a gentleman whom it is an honor to know. If you have
time, I wish you would go with me to my house,--I can hardly trust
myself alone,--and thence to the Chronicle office. This thing shall be
stopped, and you will help me stop it."

It required but a few minutes to cover the half mile that lay between
the prison and Mr. Delamere's residence.

XXVII

THE VAGARIES OF THE HIGHER LAW

Mr. Delamere went immediately to his grandson's room, which he entered
alone, closing and locking the door behind him. He had requested Ellis
to wait in the carriage.

The bed had been made, and the room was apparently in perfect order.
There was a bureau in the room, through which Mr. Delamere proceeded to
look thoroughly. Finding one of the drawers locked, he tried it with a
key of his own, and being unable to unlock it, took a poker from beside
the stove and broke it ruthlessly open.

The contents served to confirm what he had heard concerning his
grandson's character. Thrown together in disorderly confusion were
bottles of wine and whiskey; soiled packs of cards; a dice-box with
dice; a box of poker chips, several revolvers, and a number of
photographs and paper-covered books at which the old ge