Colonel Royall leaned forward in his chair, his hands clasping the arms. “Pretty well in,” he said simply, “unless he’s sold out my shares for me. I asked it, but he didn’t do it last week.” “Oh, Lordy!” said the judge. Diana went around the table and put her hand on her father’s shoulder; her young figure, drawn to its full height, seemed to stand between him and impending misfortune. “Juniper confessed this morning,” said Judge Hollis harshly, forcing himself to his unpleasant task. “He was hired by Jacob Eaton to stand in the window of the court-room while Jacob fired from behind him and killed Yarnall.” Colonel Royall rose and stood, white as ashes. “My God!” he said. Diana flung one arm around him. Judge Hollis stood looking at them a moment, then he cleared his throat, choked and went on. “Caleb Trench to-day gave me the proofs that Aaron Todd and others have collected in regard to the Eaton Investment Company. The shares are not worth the paper they’re written on, the company is a name, a bubble, a conspiracy. Not one cent will ever be recovered by the stockholders. Before nine o’clock this morning Jacob Eaton jumped his bail and ran. He can’t be found--he--” Diana suddenly stretched out a white arm before her father, as if she warded off a blow. “Not another word, Judge,” she said sternly, “not a word--on your life!” Judge Hollis uttered an exclamation and went over to the colonel’s side. “Royall,” he said, “I’m a brute--but it’s God’s truth.” “I know it,” said Colonel Royall, “and Jacob is of my blood--I feel the disgrace. Hollis, I feel the disgrace!” and he sat down and covered his face with his hands. XXVI TWO mornings later Dr. Cheyney finished his breakfast in abstracted silence; not even Miss Lucinda’s best rice griddle-cakes calling forth a word of approval. He had been talking over the telephone with Diana Royall. He finished his perfunctory examination of the daily paper, which was full of the flight of Jacob Eaton, the collapse of the Eaton Investment Company, the ruin of many prominent citizens, and the illness of Mrs. Eaton, who had been sent at once to a private sanitarium in the city. The absorbing topic of Eaton had almost swallowed up the hitherto absorbing topic of Caleb Trench, though Caleb once more loomed up, directing the forces of the opposition.