"One moment, Counsellor," went on the deputy, detaining him. "You an' me is old friends, and I don't want to hurt your feelings. But I have been warned by Murgatroyd. The District Attorney is most particular about this case." And a curious expression crossed his face, as he added: "You must admit, Counsellor, that we don't often have a guy locked up here--worth millions and charged with larceny, forgery and perjury, all at once, and who's waitin' for three-quarters of a million bail." "No, it isn't an everyday occurrence, I acknowledge. Now, will you bring him down, or shall I go up to him?" Again the deputy shook his head. "Counsellor, District Attorney Murgatroyd says be careful, and I got to, even with an old friend like you. If there's any attempt at an escape,--and a man who's said to be worth millions and wants to get out of jail--well, sometimes, locks will turn and bars will break. I don't know that it would take so many millions to----" Colonel Morehead looked straight into the eyes of big Bill Steen, with that confidential look which had won him many juries. "Bill," he said, under his breath, "suppose he wasn't worth millions--only a fraction of a million! And suppose he couldn't get bail! How much would you take, Bill, to let him go? How much? A hundred thousand, two hundred, a quarter of a million? Come--say the word." The deputy indignantly drew away. "Counsellor," he protested, "you couldn't touch me with ten million. I wouldn't let him off for that." Morehead's smile was not a pleasant one. "Steen," he went on severely, "you'll let him off for less. Oh, yes, yes you will; I know all about you, one hour won't pass before you'll be sending a man upstairs to let Wilkinson out. Come, call it a hundred and fifty thousand.... No? Then two ... two and a half----" "Not on your life!" returned Steen, raising a deprecating hand. Colonel Morehead fixed his hypnotic eye upon the other, drew himself up to his full height, thrust his hand into his breast-pocket, pulled out a paper, and held it under the nose of Steen. "Look at that, Bill," he insisted, "and see whether my prophecy comes true." The deputy warden opened the paper, glanced at it and grinned. "Quit your kiddin', Counsellor! Why didn't you say all along that you'd given bail?" "You can send it to your friend Murgatroyd," concluded Morehead, "and make sure it's O. K. I'll go up to Wilkinson." Colonel Morehead, on leaving the warden, was suddenly conscious of a feeling of disgust. With an effort, however, he shook it off, and there was a semblance, at least, of a smile on his face when he appeared, as has been said, before Wilkinson and his daughter in the counsel room. "They're going to let you out, Peter," he announced, seating himself at a table and squaring his elbows, "and right away."