roborative presence.

"And this is all true?"

"That is exactly the way it happened," replied Mr. Marcy.

Bruce looked back at the minister.

"But didn't he have anything to say for himself?"

"I can answer that," put in Kennedy. "I had him in here before I sent
him over to the jail. He admits practically every point that Doctor
Sherman has made. The only thing he says for himself is that he never
thought the money Mr. Marcy gave him was intended for a bribe."

Bruce stood up, his face hard and glowering, and his fist crashed
explosively down upon the table.

"Of all the damned flimsy defenses that ever a man made, that's the
limit!"

"It certainly won't go down with the people of Westville," commented
the prosecutor. "And I can see the smile of the jury when he produces
that defense in court."

"I should say they would smile!" cried Bruce. "But what was his
motive?"

"That's plain enough," answered the prosecutor. "We both know, Mr.
Bruce, that he has earned hardly anything from the practice of
medicine since we were boys. His salary as superintendent of the
water-works was much less than he has been spending. His property is
mortgaged practically to its full value. Everything has gone on those
experiments of his. It's simply a case of a man being in a tight fix
for money."

Bruce was striding up and down the room, scowling and staring fiercely
at the worn linoleum that carpeted the prosecutor's office.

"I thought you'd take it rather hard," said Kennedy, a little slyly.
"It sort of puts a spoke in that general municipal ownership scheme of
yours--eh?"

Bruce paused belligerently before the prosecutor.

"See here, Kennedy," he snapped out. "Because a man you've banked on
is a crook, does that prove a principle is wrong?"

"Oh, I guess not," Kennedy had to admit.

"Well, suppose you cut out that kind of talk then. But what are you
going to do about the doctor?"

"The grand jury is in session. I'm going straight before it with the
evidence. An hour from now and Doctor West will be indicted."

"And what about to-morrow's show?"

"What do you think we ought to do?"

"What ought we to do!" Again the editor's fist crashed upon the desk.
"The celebration was half in Doctor West's honour. Do we want to meet
and hurrah for the man that sold us out? As for the water-works, it
looks as if, for all we know, he might have bought us a lot of old
junk. Do we want to hold a jubilee over a junk pile? You ask