Morrissy turned over and sat up, rubbing his head. Presently he pulled himself to his feet. He was dazed. Recollection of what had happened returned to him. This dude had knocked him out. "You'll pay well for that," he said. "Sit down. It's only a marker for what I'll do to you if you make another move. Now, McQuade, which is it?" "Go ahead and write your letter," McQuade snarled. Warrington proceeded. "Now sign it," he said. "Here, John, take care of this carbon. Bolles, your signature." Bolles scrawled a shaking hand. Warrington put the paper in his pocket. "Bite, both of you now, if you dare." "I'll trouble you for that carbon," said McQuade. "Hardly. But you have my word of honor that it shall not be used against you unless you force me. It will repose in my deposit box at the bank. But as for you, Morrissy, this climate doesn't suit your abilities. The field is too small. Take my advice and clear out. That is all, gentlemen. Come, John." When they were gone Morrissy turned savagely upon McQuade. "I told you you were a damn fool!" "Get out of here, both of you; and if you ever stick your heads in this office again, I'll smash you." McQuade dropped into his chair, once more alone. He sat there for an hour, thinking, ruminating, planning; but all his thinking and ruminating and planning had but one result: they had him licked. Morrissy was right; he was a fool. The girl! He would have liked her throat in his fingers that moment, the sneaking, treacherous baggage! Licked! To go about hereafter with that always menacing him! But there was one ray of consolation. He knew something about human nature. Bennington and Warrington would drift apart after this. Bennington had cleared up the scandal, but he hadn't purged his heart of all doubt. There was some satisfaction in this knowledge. And Warrington would never enter the City Hall as Herculaneum's mayor. Chapter XX By November John and his wife were on the way to Italy. There is always a second honeymoon for those who have just passed the first matrimonial Scylla and Charybdis; there is always a new courtship, deeper and more understanding. Neither of them had surrendered a particle of their affection for Warrington, but they agreed that it would be easier for all concerned if there came a separation of several months. "You are all I have," said Warrington, when they bade him good-by. "I shall be very lonely without you. If I lose the election I shall go to Japan." "There's always Patty and the mother," said John, smiling. "Yes, there's always Patty and her mother. Good-by, and God bless you both. You deserve all the happiness I can wish for you." Warrington plunged into the campaign. It would keep him occupied.