It was John's turn to look blank. Ten thousand dollars! He turned faint and giddy; he tried to speak; he saw the pen circle and then sweep down toward the check. He put out his hand and caught Haviland by the wrist. “No, don't!” he gasped. “Shall I make it fifteen thousand?” “No.” And this time there was no irresolution. Haviland groaned aloud; the sweat clung in beads to his forehead. He rose from his chair. “I am offering you fifteen thousand dollars for the stroke of your pen,—if it is not enough, name your own price,” he added hoarsely. “I can't do it.” “Do you mean you won't come to terms?” “Yes.” “Why?” His face was livid. “Because I can't do what you ask of me,—I can't shield you, and I can't take your money. I don't suppose you understand,—it wouldn't do me any good—I should feel as though I had robbed some one—I could never tell my wife how I got the money; there would always be that between us. I'll finish what I can of the statement to-morrow and hand in my resignation.” As he spoke he came slowly to his feet. Haviland only half heard what John said. He was standing with his hands resting on the table, staring straight ahead into vacancy. The whole world would know! This stupidly honest fool, whose intelligence he had always put at zero, was the Nemesis in his path. For the first time in his life he was cowed. He turned to John with a dumb fear in his eyes. “For God's sake, Norton—do you realize what this means?” he cried brokenly. “You must stand by me; I'll come out all right! Don't go over to them—they will never do for you what I will!” “I hadn't thought of them, or what they'll do.” “No!” with something of his old explosive manner. “You are looking to them for your reward when you have betrayed me! But what will it amount to? A few hundred a year, perhaps!” “That was what you offered me first.” “Oh, you'll get it from them! It's easy enough to see what your game is!” Then, as a last appeal, he cried: “You know nothing positively. All I ask you to do is to take your money—the money I am willing to give you, no matter why—and clear out—go where you choose—do as you please—” But John moved toward the door, and Haviland read in the tense set lines of his face his decision. John went down the steps slowly, like a man in a daze. It had been the most dramatic moment of his life; it left him confused and stunned, and with an inexplicable fear of the future. Soon this fear took a definite form. He quickened his pace. He must hurry home and tell Alice the whole circumstance and ask her advice. Perhaps he had already committed himself by going to see Haviland! He revolved the matter in his mind. What could Haviland do—would he dare accuse him? He could run no risks—he owed it to Alice and the children to take every precaution. But how was he to protect himself?