me not to cage her!"
Northrup found expression difficult--it all sounded so utterly
hopeless with that doubting, sneering face confronting him; and
his late distrust of himself--menacing.

"Besides, your wife has her own ideals. That's hard for us men to
understand. Ideals quite detached from us; from all that we might like
to believe is good for us. I have my own life, Rivers. Frankly, I was
tempted to turn my back on it and with courage set sail for a new
port. I had contemplated that, but I'm going back to it and, by God's
help, live it!"

And now Northrup's face twitched. He waited a moment and then went
hopelessly on:

"What the future holds--who knows? Life is a thundering big thing,
Rivers, if we play it square, and I'm going to play it square as it's
given me to see it. You don't believe me?" Almost a wistfulness rang
in the words. Larry leaned back and laughed a hollow, ugly laugh.

"Believe you?" he said. "Hell, no!"

"I thought you couldn't." Northrup got up.

Around the edges of the lowered shades, a gray, drear light gave
warning of coming day. The effect of Larry's last drink was wearing
off--he looked near the breaking point.

"Rivers, I'll make a pact with you. Set your wife free--in my way. If
you do that, I'll leave the place; never see her again unless a higher
power than yours or mine decrees otherwise in the years on ahead. Take
your last chance, man, to do the only decent thing left you to do:
start afresh somewhere else. Forget it all. I know this sounds
devilish easy and I know it's devilish hard, but"--and here the iron
was driven into Rivers's consciousness--"either you or I set
Mary-Clare free before"--he hesitated; he wanted to give all that he
humanly could--"before another forty-eight hours."

Larry felt the cold perspiration start on his forehead; his stomach
grew sick.

Faint and fear-filled, he seemed to feel Maclin after him; Mary-Clare
confronting him, smileless, terrifying. On the other hand he saw
freedom; money; a place in which he could breathe, once more, with
Maclin's hands off his throat and Mary-Clare's coldness forgotten.

"I'll go to her; I'll do your hell-work, but give me another day." He
gritted his teeth.

"Rivers, this is Tuesday. On Friday you must be gone, and remember
this: I've got it in my power to set your wife free and imprison you
and I'll not hesitate to do it if you try any tricks. I'd advise you
to keep clear of Maclin and leave whiskey alone. Y