Hines shrugged his shoulders. “You’re very foolish,” he said, as he backed toward the door. “Take it from me, you’re doin’ your carrier friend a bad turn. However, the other part of my offer still stands. When Sheridan’s convicted, I’ll use my political pull to get him off with a suspended sentence, provided you’ll agree to shake him and marry me. Think it over, little one. It’s a mighty generous offer. You ought to be glad to marry an honest man instead of a crook.” He walked up the avenue, whistling gayly, and ten minutes later entered the headquarters of the Samuel J. Coggswell Association, and climbed the stairs to the room marked “Director’s Office--Private.” He was the only member of the club who was privileged to enter that room without first going through the formality of knocking on the door. As he now closed the door behind him, turned the key in the lock, and stepped across the soft, thick Persian rug to the mahogany roll-top desk at which sat Samuel J. Coggswell, the latter swung around in his desk chair, and confronted him eagerly. “Well, Jake?” he said. “Everything’s went fine, boss,” replied Hines, with a grin, seating himself beside the desk. “Your scheme worked like a clock from start to finish. Sheridan was pinched at half past twelve, and is in the jug at this minute.” Boss Coggswell’s face lighted up. “Good!” he said. “That is, I mean to say: What a pity that one so young should turn out to be such a bad egg! To think of a nice-looking, clean-cut young fellow like that having to go to jail almost makes me weep, Jake--almost makes me weep.” There wasn’t a ghost of a smile upon the district leader’s face as he uttered these words. On the contrary, his expression was so sad, so virtuous, that Hines might have believed that his master actually meant what he said if he hadn’t known what he did, and if he hadn’t noticed that all the time the boss was talking his ears were wiggling rapidly--a sure sign that Old Nick was at work inside that cunning brain. “Let this be a lesson to you, Jake,” Coggswell went on. “Let this be a warning to you, my boy--for you, too, are very young--never to do anything dishonest.” “Or never get gay with Boss Coggswell,” chuckled Hines, looking at his chief admiringly. “You’re a wonder!” “And how does the young man take it?” inquired Coggswell, after a long pause. “Very calmly so far,” replied Hines. “He can’t believe that he’s in any danger of being sent away. Says it’s a frame-up, and that he won’t have any trouble in proving his innocence.” “Poor, misguided youth!” murmured the boss. “He’s got ex-Judge Lawrence to defend him,” Hines went on. “As soon as the judge heard that he was under arrest, he went to police headquarters and offered to take the case for nothing.” “And what does the judge think?” inquired Coggswell, somewhat anxiously, for he knew that Mr. Sugden Lawrence, ex-justice of the supreme court, was one of the most able lawyers in the country.