"Allow me to correct you; he married a cousin of my mother's. Of course you recall his connection with the syndicate that secured congressional grant of lands in the West, which subsequently proved so valuable. You were a member of the Senate committee that reported favorably, and doubtless you recollect all that passed between you and Hunt at that time." "Good God! When the grave closed over him, I thought that syndicate business was screwed down in his coffin." "Judge Kent, I would give my right arm if it could be shut in there. Do you recall a time in Washington, the night of Secretary D----'s dinner, from which I carried Eglah to a cotillon? Early in the evening you received an anonymous warning that the personality of 'Ely Twiggs' had been discovered. Accidentally the truth came into my possession. I sent it, that you might prepare any defence you deemed advisable--and I was unwilling you should suspect I knew the facts. The cashier of that western Pentland Bank was Duncan Keith, whom I knew when I was a boy, and when the bank failed, he and the bookkeeper disappeared, after destroying the books; at least the president and teller so stated at the examination held by directors and stockholders. Edward Hunt was a director, and defended Keith. He always contended that the president and teller had conspired to throw the guilt on an innocent man. Leaving his son with the boy's grandmother in Ohio, Keith fled, and was reported somewhere in South America. One night in Geneva, where I went to attend a scientific congress, a blurred sheet was brought to me at the hotel. "'Your old friend Duncan Keith is dying. I am an innocent victim. Come and take my message to my boy in Ohio.'