“Ah!” he replied, his sympathies touched and awakened. Here was this boy arrested and fined for what fate was practically driving him to do. Here was this girl pleading with him at night, in his room, for what to her was a great necessity—ten dollars; to him, a mere nothing. “I will arrange about your brother,” he said quickly. “Don’t worry. I can get him out in half an hour. You sit here now and be comfortable until I return.” He waved her to his easy-chair beside a large lamp, and hurried out of the room. Brander knew the sheriff who had personal supervision of the county jail. He knew the judge who had administered the fine. It was but a five minutes’ task to write a note to the judge asking him to revoke the fine, for the sake of the boy’s character, and send it by a messenger to his home. Another ten minutes’ task to go personally to the jail and ask his friend, the sheriff, to release the boy then and there. “Here is the money,” he said. “If the fine is revoked you can return it to me. Let him go now.” The sheriff was only too glad to comply. He hastened below to personally supervise the task, and Bass, a very much astonished boy, was set free. No explanations were vouchsafed him. “That’s all right now,” said the turnkey. “You’re at liberty. Run along home and don’t let them catch you at anything like that again.” Bass went his way wondering, and the ex-Senator returned to his hotel trying to decide just how this delicate situation should be handled. Obviously Jennie had not told her father of her mission. She had come as a last resource. She was now waiting for him in his room. There are crises in all men’s lives when they waver between the strict fulfilment of justice and duty and the great possibilities for personal happiness which another line of conduct seems to assure. And the dividing line is not always marked and clear. He knew that the issue of taking her, even as his wife, was made difficult by the senseless opposition of her father. The opinion of the world brought up still another complication. Supposing he should take her openly, what would the world say? She was a significant type emotionally, that he knew. There was something there—artistically, temperamentally, which was far and beyond the keenest suspicion of the herd. He did not know himself quite what it was, but he felt a largeness of feeling not altogether squared with intellect, or perhaps better yet, experience, which was worthy of any man’s desire. “This remarkable girl,” he thought, seeing her clearly in his mind’s eye. Meditating as to what he should do, he returned to his hotel, and the room. As he entered he was struck anew with her beauty, and with the irresistible appeal of her personality. In the glow of the shaded lamp she seemed a figure of marvelous potentiality. “Well,” he said, endeavoring to appear calm, “I have looked after your brother. He is out.” She rose.