“Craig claims Winship has absconded with all the cash. The bank has failed.” “Failed!” The word was a moan from Bishop, and for a moment no one spoke. A negro woman at the wash-place behind the house was using a batting-stick on some clothing, and the dull blows came to them distinctly. “Is that so, Ray?” asked Alan, calm but pale to the lips. “I'm sorry to say it is.” “Can anything at all be done?” “I've done everything possible already. We have been telegraphing the Atlanta police all morning about tracing Winship, but they don't seem much interested. They think he's had too big a start on us. You see, he's been gone two days and nights. Craig says he thought he was on a visit to relatives till he discovered the loss last night.” “It simply spells ruin, old man,” said Alan, grimly. “I can see that.” Miller said nothing for a moment--then: “It's just as bad as it could be, my boy,” he said. “I see no reason to raise false hopes. There is a strong feeling against Craig, and no little suspicion, owing to the report that he has been speculating heavily, but he has thrown himself on the protection of his church, and even some of his fellow-members, who lose considerably, are standing by him.” Here old Bishop, with compressed lips, turned and walked unsteadily into the house. With head hanging low and eyes flashing strangely, his wife followed him. At the steps she paused, her sense of hospitality transcending her despair. “You must stay to early supper, anyway, Mr. Miller,” she said. “You could ride back in the cool o' the evening.” “Thank you, but I must hurry right back, Mrs. Bishop,” Miller said. “And Dolly--does she know?” asked Alan, when his mother had disappeared and Abner had walked to the hitching-post, and stood as if thoughtfully inspecting Miller's mare. Miller told him of their conversation that morning, and Alan' s face grew tender and more resigned. “She's a brick!” said Miller. “She's a woman I now believe in thoroughly--she and one other.” “Then there _is_ another?” asked Alan, almost cheerfully, as an effect of the good news that had accompanied the bad. “Yes. I see things somewhat differently of late,” admitted Miller, in an evasive, non-committal tone. “Dolly Barclay opened my eyes, and when they were open I saw--well, the good qualities of some one else. I may tell you about her some day, but I shall not now. Get your horse and come to town with me. We must be ready for any emergency.” Abner Daniel came towards them. “I don't want to harm nobody's character,” he said; “but whar my own kin is concerned, I'm up an' wide awake. I don't know what you think, but I hain't got a speck o' faith in Craig hisse'f. He done me a low, sneakin' trick once that I ketched up with. He swore it was a mistake, but it wasn't. He's a bad egg--you mind what I say; he won't do.”