“When you are older, Mr. Tregarvon, and come to know human nature a little better, you will apprehend the truth of that worldly wise beatitude, ‘Blessed are they who expect little, for, verily, they shall not be disappointed.’ Consider a moment: you came here, the legal owner of the Ocoee, to be sure, and the innocent owner, inasmuch as your father was the unsuspecting purchaser of stolen goods. Yet you were none the less the legitimate successor of the bandit who had looted us. You wouldn’t expect much from those who had been so ruthlessly defrauded, would you?” “Since I was not even constructively to blame, yes,” Tregarvon insisted stubbornly. “Your motive went deeper than that.” “It did,” the professor admitted gravely. “Almost from the first I saw the slight chance of a reward, the attainment of which has been the one thing desirable in a rather drab-colored life, slipping away from me; taken away from me in sheer wantonness, as it seemed, since, I had been given to understand, you were already pledged to marry Miss Wardwell. It was not in human nature to be entirely unresentful, Mr. Tregarvon.” “Oh; so that was it?” said Tregarvon shortly. Then: “What I saw yesterday afternoon in the forest back of Westwood House seems to prove that I am as far out of the running as you are with Judge Birrell’s daughter.” The professor’s face became, for the moment, a study in astoundment. “Ah--yes,” he said, stumbling over the words; and then: “I am to infer that you didn’t recognize the young man whom you saw with Miss Richardia yesterday afternoon?” “No; he was a stranger to me. Doesn’t the judge approve of him?” This time the professor’s smile was rather grim. “He does not--most decidedly.” “But Richardia loves him; and that is enough--for you and for me.” “Assuredly she loves him--very loyally,” was the grave reply; and a moment later, as if the mention of the judge had evoked a new train of thought: “I am curious to know if my leaf-fire diversion--which had such unlooked-for and disastrous results--came soon enough. How much had Morgan McNabb confessed?” Tregarvon ignored the brow-wrinkling of pain which accompanied the question. “I am beginning to believe that you are a very hardened criminal, Mr. Hartridge. If you know that McNabb had a confession to make, it follows that you were his accomplice.” The answer was a suppressed groan, for which the schoolmaster instantly apologized. “You--you must forgive me if I say that I can’t go into the matter of culpability with you just now. This leg--of mine--grows a bit insistent. But it will be the greatest possible satisfaction to me if you will answer my question.” “All right; you shall have it. Just before the explosion came McNabb had admitted that he was acting for somebody else.” “But he did not name the person?”