He tore himself from his chair and began to stride about the room like a restless tiger in a cage. His walk took him into the hall utterly forgetful of the presence of his friend. There a colored maid came to him and said, “Your mother wants you, sir.” He stared at the girl blankly for a moment, then he seemed to pull himself together. “Has my mother heard--?” “No, sir, your father told us not to excite her.” “All right, I'll go up,” Carson said. “Tell Mr. Gordon, in the library, to wait for me.” “I was wondering if you had come,” the invalid said, as he bent over her bed, took her hand, and kissed her. “I presume you have been very busy all day over Pete's case?” “Yes, very busy, mother dear.” “And is it all right now? Your father tells me the trial is set for to-morrow. Oh, Carson, I'm very proud of you. I heard your speech last night, and it seemed to lift me to the very throne of God. Oh, you are right, you are right! It is our duty to love and sympathize with those poor creatures. They are still children in the cradles of their past slavery. They can't act for themselves. Their crimes are due chiefly to the lack of the guiding hands they once had. Oh, my son, your father is angry with you for spoiling your political chances by such a radical stand, but even if you lose the race by it, I shall be all the prouder of you, for you have shown that you won't sell yourself. I wish I could go to the courthouse to-morrow, but the doctor won't let me. He says I mustn't have another shock like that last night, when I heard that shot, saw you reel, and thought you were killed. Son, are you listening?” “Why, yes, mother. I--” His mind was really elsewhere. He had dropped her hand, and was standing with furrowed brow and tightly drawn lips in the shadow thrown by the lamp on a table near by and the high posts of the old-fashioned bedstead. “I thought you seemed to be thinking of something else,” said the invalid, plaintively. “I really was troubled about leaving Keith downstairs by himself,” Carson said. “Perhaps I'd better run down now, mother.” “Oh yes, I didn't know he was there. Ask him to supper.” “All right, mother,” and he left the room with a slow step, finding Gordon on the veranda below fitfully puffing at a cigar as he walked to and fro. “Helen called me to the fence just now,” Keith said. “She's all broken to pieces. She is relying solely on you now. She sent you a message.” “Me?” “Yes, with the tears streaming down her cheeks she simply said, 'Tell Carson that I am praying that he will think of some way to avert this disaster.” “She said that!” Carson turned and stared through the gathering shadows towards the jail. There was a moment's pause, then he asked, in a tone that was harsh, crisp, and rasping: “Keith, could you get together to-night fifteen men who would stick to me through personal friendship and help me arrive at some decision as to--to what is best?”