ay. I've been
getting sick of this kind of thing for weeks; now that he's proved the
biggest kind of a coward, I've come straight to you. And I'm glad I
did."

"Would you be willing to go into court and swear to all this?" asked
Gertrude. "For that is what it will come to, Newton."

"All this and more," he answered. "If you can catch the dirty whelp
before he sails for foreign parts, I'll do my part to put him where he
belongs. I'm sick of living the life of a dirty dog. I want to be a
clean man. I want to be a respectable citizen for the sake of my boy and
girl, Miss Van Deusen; and their mother thinks the world of you--and so
do I, when you come to that."

"I am sure of that," answered Gertrude, smiling again at the thought
that it was his loyalty which made of him her chauffeur on that
memorable ride. "I shall depend on you now."

Thus it happened that Bailey Armstrong, who would trust no man to go
alone, took the midnight train for the East, accompanied by the sheriff
of Roma; and that, in due course of time, they returned to Roma,
"bringing their sheaves with them" in the form of Otis H. Mann, Esq.

CHAPTER XXV

The Old, Old Story

The trial which followed was perhaps the most exciting event in the
history of Roma. The indictment of Mann involved that of eight others,
all more or less prominent in city politics; and when the facts became
known with regards to Mann's connection with all the events narrated by
Fitzgerald, the citizens were unanimous in demanding his punishment.

Although the documental evidence in the city hall had all been destroyed
or secreted, there were plenty of witnesses ready to testify to what
they knew, as soon as they felt safe in doing so; and although the
stenographer's notes and Mary Snow's record of what took place while
she was secreted in the closet during Vickery's proposals of graft to
the mayor were not to be found, Mary's testimony was admitted. Gertrude
Van Deusen and Newton Fitzgerald were the chief witnesses, however, and
there were few of Mann's minions brave enough to stand by him in this
emergency. The trial was not long, the jury was out fifteen minutes and
the verdict was "guilty."

When the judge pronounced the penalty, "Ten years in state's prison and
the restitution of every dollar you have taken from or through the
city," Mann collapsed from the red-faced, pompous official, into the
pitiable wretch; and there were few to say a good word for him when