him
into the ground gladly and sternly, gloatingly and viciously--deeper and
deeper, until he felt the damp earth upon his face and heard less and
less clearly the tread of those marching feet.

Then it ceased altogether and Mr. Constable smiled in his sleep as he
dreamed he was dead, only to awake with a shriek when he felt that he
was living.

The next morning the Warden met him on the street.

"How's the local colour getting on?" he asked pleasantly.

"I was working with it all last night."

The Warden stared silently at the speaker for a moment, frowned slightly
and passed on.

"Good God!" he muttered to himself, "if it makes a man look like that to
write, I never want to read again."

Mr. Constable left Sing Sing for Niagara, where he stopped long
enough to write a letter in the public writing-room of an hotel. The
composition of this missive, however, consumed several hours, for the
writer kept glancing apprehensively over his shoulder and when anyone
approached the table he covered his paper with the blotter and waited
until he was alone again. But when at last the letter was finished he
omitted to sign it, which was the more neglectful since no one could
possibly have recognised the shaky handwriting as that of the snappy,
energetic, confident Mr. Theodore Constable. Even the clerk in the New
York Post Office who handled the envelope cursed the writer as he
puzzled out the address.

Mr. Constable next visited Detroit presumably for the sole purpose of
dictating curious statements to the hotel typewriter. These he mailed
to New York with some enclosures, addressing the envelopes in large,
childish capitals.

The rest of his vacation was spent in the bedroom of a second class
boarding-house in Chicago.

At the end of three weeks he returned to New York looking far worse
than when he went away. Mr. Hertzog therefore hesitated to tell him that
Horton had moved for another trial on newly-discovered evidence.

But the matter could not be kept secret, for Horton's counsel had done
more than claim he could prove his client's innocence; he not only
produced one or two strikingly significant exhibits received anonymously
from Detroit, but also asserted he was daily obtaining clues from
unknown friends in other cities which might lead to the discovery of a
conspiracy, if not to the conspirators themselves.

Even a careless student of human nature must have observed the marked
change which had taken place i