“Judge Wright set my bail at ten thousand dollars. My old chum Bill did everything short of hocking his interest in the _Telegraph_, trying to raise it. Seventy-five hundred in cash-money was the best he could do. So I’ve just had to wait here—and wait and wait and wait. It’s been horrible. For the first time in my life I’ve found out how long an hour can be—or a day—or a week. That terrible helpless feeling—being shut up like an animal in a cage, powerless. It’s done for me.” “Naw it ain’t done for you! You’re good as you ever was, and a darn sight better. But that’s neither here nor there—as the feller says when he was chasin’ the hen. Point is, you gotta get out where you can do some fightin’. How much’d she bust for? The box-shop?” “Counting liabilities to stockholders, twenty-two thousand.” “How much is the bank in for?” “About twelve.” “How much’d your old man swipe?” “Close to ten.” “B’damn, we’ll fix this lock-up business, quick enough! But why the devil didn’t your Ma come forward with her house?” “She said it was all she had to show for a life of hard work. She was afraid of losing it,” responded Nathan humorously. “But it was only leavin’ it as bail.” “I know. She doesn’t understand.” “Does she think more o’ that damn property than she does of her boy?” “Apparently! No, that’s unfair. She thinks I should be punished a while for keeping on with father. She wanted me to oust him a long time ago. But I couldn’t, even if I’d wanted. He had control of the stock. I can’t blame her. It’s hard to blame people who haven’t the capacity to understand.” “Trouble with you, young feller, you’re too soft-hearted for your own good. You need to cultivate a little healthy selfishness. Never mind! Maybe if you was selfish so, I wouldn’t love your dratted young hide like I do—always goin’ and landin’ in scrapes. Well, just thought I’d call in on my way to give Hentley hell, and tell you I was here on the job. You wait a few minutes till I’ve fixed this bail stuff. Then we’ll go out somewheres and assault food and talk it over. Down to the box-shop, maybe, and have a look-see round.” “We can’t go down there. The shop’s in charge of the sheriff. They won’t let us in.” “Won’t they, though? I’d like to see the goofus-brained pie-eater in this tank-town as would stop me. I’d pull out his nose a coupla feet and tie a knot in it!” II It was after ten o’clock when Nathan reached his home. He had eaten with Caleb and then gone to the box-shop. Milly did not know of her husband’s freedom until he admitted himself into their cold front hall and opened the sitting-room door beyond. “You!” she cried, springing up. “Have you broke jail, or—what?” “Caleb Gridley came back from California this afternoon. He bailed me. You needn’t worry, Milly. It’s coming out all right.” “You mean the shop’s goin’ to start again?”