Mrs. Pearson addressed her husband as he approached her: “I want you to sign over all of your part and interest in this home we, your daughters and I, occupy. I will not live under a roof owned by a criminal, and you shall be disowned at once. I have already made application—before my daughter is married, I shall have all ties broken with you.” “I am not going to sign over any of the property. It is not mine at all. It belongs to my brother here. I spent and lost all of my estate, and that is why I am here to-day. I swore that he was dead and in that way got his share, and what we now have is his. He is alive and free, and he is innocent, and here am I, a criminal and guilty, and bound down here for no one knows how long.” “Oh, dear brother! is this your wife? And she spoke of your daughters. You have not told me anything about them. I can not see you separated from them all for the loss of my money. What would I do with it, now, to know that I would cause so much misery to obtain it. I could not be happy. Oh, if I could only step in your shoes and you in mine! I would gladly do so. And you, my dear sister-in-law, how sorry I am to know that this has happened!” “If you had never committed a murder—you, I say—feigning mercy for your brother, we would not have to suffer.” “I am not a murderer. Here are my papers of freedom, and the real murderer is here in my place—self-confessed, and he will be punished for the crime. If my dear brother could only be found as innocent as I am, you would have your beautiful home always. As it is, I shall claim what is due me, and what was left me by the will of my dear mother.” “You may have a hard time to get it.” “I am willing to turn all over to my brother. He is entitled to it, and it belongs to him,” said the husband. “Get some water, Pat. Mrs. Pearson has fainted.” As she revived Mrs. Pearson asked that a carriage be called. The superintendent replied: “You may step into this room. I will call one. “Mr. Pearson, you may return to your cell. Pat, take him back to 77.” “Oh, brother! what can I do for you?” “Pray for me. You got me here. Except for you, I would be a free man.” “Clarence, you may sign here. Here are the papers of freedom. I want to shake hands with you. I hope that you will never again be placed in such a position,” said the superintendent. “I thank you, sir. I am under obligations to you for many favors, and I hope that you will always be as just to all the other prisoners as you have been to me.” “I shall try to be. Good-bye.” “Good-bye, sir.” “Your carriage is here, Mrs. Pearson.” “Good-bye, officer.” “Good-bye, madam.” “Drive to 1715 North Twenty-third Street,” said Mrs. Pearson. CHAPTER XXI. REMORSE.