ice,
he was anticipating Helen's criticism of his act in taking the money
from the bank in the face of her strong opposition. He found on arrival,
that the devil had a way of his own in making smooth the path of his
disciples, for a time at least.

Helen greeted him as usual.

"My last night's advice was unnecessary, wasn't it?"

"How so?"

"I went around by the bank this morning. It was a sight, I can tell you.
I didn't see you in the line." There was an indirect question in Helen's
eyes.

"I wasn't in line." Elijah could not restrain a sigh of relief as he
spoke the half-truth.

"They say the line was begun before ten o'clock last night."

"I know it was, and it was kept too." Elijah turned to his desk and
became absorbed in his work.

Whether or not Helen grasped the fact that her indirect question of
Elijah remained unanswered, she pursued it no farther.

Toward noon, Elijah went to the safe which stood in the back of the
office. He opened the door, took from his pocket a bunch of keys and
unlocked his private box. Helen's back was towards him. Without taking
his eyes from her, he drew from his pocket a small package and slipped
it beneath a pile of papers. Then he closed and locked the door and
returned the keys to his pocket. He reseated himself, swinging his chair
from his desk.

"Are you busy, Helen?"

"Not very."

"What do you think this business means?"

"What, the run on the Pacific?"

"Yes."

"It's the beginning of the end, and I'm glad it's come." Helen spoke
with decision.

"The end of everything?"

"No; only a weeding out. It was bound to come, only I didn't think it
would be so soon."

"I don't feel so sure that anything will be left."

"Things that are worth while, will be."

Elijah made no immediate reply. He could not get away from the thought
of the thing that he had done; the thing that Helen had almost commanded
him not to do. He knew what she would think could she know of the packet
which he had stealthily slipped into his private box. He raised his
eyes, to meet Helen's looking frankly into his own, or--was it his
imagination? Was there an anxious questioning, born of a half suspicion?
He put the thought from him.

"Ysleta was worth while," he ventured.

"In itself, it was." Helen's face was firm with conviction. "But these
scheming rascals have made it not worth while for a long time. There
will be room for Ysleta if Las Cruces is managed right."

"It's going to