Coleman drew some paper from his desk, and wrote as follows: “ELWELL: It is all up. Mr. Conway, who will hand you this, knows everything. You cannot fight, and I am forced to act for them. COLEMAN.” “Will that do?” he inquired, handing the note to Conway. “Yes, that will do,” replied the doctor, after reading the note and putting it in his pocket. “Now, when can Mr. Morain and his daughter return?” “This afternoon.” “Very well. Have them here as soon as possible.” Then, turning to Jim, he said: “I think you had better go with Coleman, and get out the necessary warrants at once. I will call upon this man myself.” “Wait a minute,” said Coleman as they were leaving the room. “You had better understand about this land before you go.” He had made up his mind that his only hope for safety lay in gaining the good will of these people, and since he _must_ help them, it would be better for him to help them all he could. So when they had returned to the desk, he went into a detailed account of the lumber steal. It appeared, from his story, that the land Jim had supposed to be worthless was really pine land, covered with a heavy growth of that valuable timber, and adjoining a plot owned by Morain. Elwell, seeing the value of the timber on it, had endeavored to purchase it, but had been unable to find the owner. So, with his usual audacity, he had gone on cutting timber from the land, expecting, as soon as the campaign closed, to send some one to New York to see and deal with the owner, taking it for granted that this old woman was not likely to know the increase in value of the property. Then came Jim’s advertisement to sell this same land, and Peter had been instructed to answer it and get the land at any price. Conway and his friend listened intently, but with different emotions. Jim was frantic with anger. “The scoundrels!” he cried, “I wouldn’t sell them the land now at any price!” and he clinched his hands and walked the floor, red with indignation. Conway said nothing; but his lips slightly parted in a grim smile. “Lord help him now!” thought the astute lawyer as he watched Conway’s face. “There’s mighty little chance for him against _this_ man.” After leaving some further instructions as to the warrants, Conway left to deliver the note to Norine’s husband. “It will serve as a letter of introduction,” he thought grimly. He had just reached the mill gate when he met Norine, and her story of the divorce, and evident belief in it, did not lessen his stern determination to punish this man. After leaving her at the hotel, he returned to the mill and entered the office. Clinton was there, with his head bowed down on the desk, and his hands covering his face. He did not at first recognize his visitor, and demanded roughly: “What do you want?” “Justice!” replied Conway sternly. The other sprang to his feet.