"Ed," I said to him, "we want you to find out all you can about this brother-in-law of Judge Garretson's. See if you can learn how many of those London and Chicago bonds he holds." The next morning Ed brought us the information that Lucas Smith was willing enough to talk, boasting that he and his friends were going "to tune up those packers in good style." Ed thought they had got their tip from one of Lokes's pals. It seems that Smith owned, nominally, only two of the bonds. And there we were! Slocum rubbed his chin, trying to see light in a dark place. "What sort of a man is this Judge Garretson?" I asked the lawyer. "Good enough for a political judge, I guess. He's up for reëlection this fall. There was some talk about his attitude in traction cases, but nothing positive against him." "See here, Ed!"--I turned to Hostetter abruptly--"I want you to go straight out to this Lucas Smith's place and find him. Tell him you know where he can get twenty-five thousand dollars for those two bonds of his the day Judge Garretson dissolves that injunction." "Hold on, Van!" Slocum interposed. "That is too strong! I stuck by you last time, but I won't stand for this!" "Go on, Ed!" I called out to Hostetter peremptorily. "Tell him just that--the day the injunction is dissolved he gets twenty-five thousand dollars for his bonds, and the other rats don't get a cent!" Slocum rose without a word and put on his hat. I put my hand on his shoulder and pushed him back into his chair. "You aren't going to quit like that, Sloco, after all these years! Think it over. What else is there for us to do? Can we have this business aired in court? What will Farson say to that story of Lokes's? Do you think we could buy the bonds from those _rats_ for any likely figure?--for any figure, if Carmichael is waiting around the corner to pick up our cake when we are forced to drop it?" He sank into the chair rather limp, and we looked at each other for a minute or two. "Well," he said slowly, "it might as well come out now as later." "You have got to sit in the boat with me, Sloco! I need you." I leaned across the table and looked into his eyes. Slowly, after a time, he nodded, and gave himself up to me to do my will. In the heat of my trouble, I scarce realized what that acquiescence cost him: he never gave another sign. But it cost him, one way and another, more than I ever could repay,--and now I know it. We walked out together, and as I turned in the direction of home I said cheerfully:-- "Once out of this mess, old man, we shall be on easy street, and you can buy a block of those old brick shanties back in Portland!" The lawyer smiled at my speech, but turned away without another word. * * * * *