At this disloyalty to the dead, Jeff’s gorge rose at the man; treacherous, heartless, revolting. But he kept a tranquil, untroubled face. The Judge went on: “Your resolution may change. You will suffer from ennui. I may mention that, should you join us, the pecuniary reward will be great. I am wealthy and powerful, and our little organization--informal, but very select--shares my fortunes. They push me up from below and I pull them up from above. I will add that we seldom find it necessary to resort to such extreme measures as we did in the Tillotson case. He was a very troublesome man; he has been a thorn in my side for years. “On the contrary, we conduct many open and perfectly-legitimate enterprises, political, legal, financial. We are interested in mining propositions; we have cattle ranches in Texas and Old Mexico; we handle real estate. As side lines, we do a miscellaneous business--smuggle a vast amount of opium and a few Chinamen, keep sanctuary for unhappy fugitives, jump good mines and sell poor ones, furnish or remove witnesses--Oh, many things! But, perhaps, our greatest activity is simply to exert moral pressure in aid of our strictly-legitimate enterprises. “Tut, tut! I have been so charmed that I have overstayed my time. Think this matter over carefully, my dear fellow. There is much to gain or to lose. You shall have ample time for consideration. Mac and Borrowman will get you anything you want, within the bounds of reason--clothes, books, tobacco, such knickknacks. And, by the way, here are yesterday’s papers. You may care to read the Tillotson case. The editorials, both those that condemn him and those that defend, are particularly amusing.” “Mac and Borrowman are to be my jailers?” said Jeff. The Judge raised his hands in expostulation. “Jailers?” he repeated. “What a harsh term! Let us say, companions. You might break out of jail,” said the Judge, tapping Jeff’s breast with his strong fingers, “but you will not get away from me. They will tell you their instructions. I will attend to your hurts, now, and then I must go.” “I would like clean clothes,” said Jeff, while the Judge dressed his wounds skilfully. “A safety razor--they can keep it when I’m not using it--the daily papers, cigars, tobacco--let me see, what else? Oh, yes--I was trying to learn the typewriter. I’d like to try it again when my finger gets better. For books, send in Shakspere’s works and Carlyle’s ‘French Revolution,’ for the present.” “You’re quite sure that’s all?” said the Judge, entertained and delighted. “You must intend to take your time about making up your mind.” “My mind is entirely made up now. I would insure you against a watery death,” said Jeff with utmost calmness, “for a dime!” “We shall see, we shall see!” said the Judge skeptically. “Time works many wonders. You will be ennuied! I prophesy it. Besides, I count upon your gratitude. Good-night!” “Good-night!” * * * * *