"What of it?" challenged Luke. "Betty, I’ve got to do what I think’s right. You wouldn’t have me go against everything I believe, would you? You wouldn’t have me do something I thought was wrong?" Betty half raised her head: "But it can’t be wrong not to ruin us!" Luke turned his words on Forbes. "I’ll withdraw from the company," he said. "I couldn’t buy you out," Forbes answered. He bit his lip; shame colored his cheeks. "And if you sold to anybody else it would be sure to be letting in our enemies. Even the mere report that you wanted to sell would wreck us, coming on top of those bank interviews." Luke knew Forbes was right. "Betty," he said, "a lot of men that believe in me are going to offer me this nomination. It’s a nomination to a place that makes its holder an officer of the court, an officer of justice, yet the plain truth is your father wants me to let these other men’s money, or the power of their money, buy me off from doing justice to them." "Nonsense!" Forbes was strengthened by his daughter’s meed of comfort. "You won’t be elected if you are nominated." "They seem to think I will," said Luke. "And somebody else," urged Betty, "could do just as well against them, Luke." "That’s not the point, Betty. It’s a personal question, a question of personal morals; it’s a matter of my own conscience." She turned until she stood no longer between the two men. She stood at her father’s side. Her cheeks were damp from weeping, but her eyes shone. "But think, Luke," she said. "You _are_ young. Father’s twice as old, and he _must_ know more. He must be right. He wouldn’t ask you to do anything that was wrong, would you, father?" Forbes shook his head. "I know it’s a lot for you to have to give up," she went on; "but you ought to be willing to give up a lot if—if you——" "If I love you?" asked Luke. She met him. "Yes," she said. "She’s right, Luke," nodded her father. "Then," pursued Luke—the tone was his laziest—"what about her love for me? Isn’t it to——" Betty interrupted. She had taken Forbes’s hand: "You’re not going to make me choose between you and father, are you?" she pleaded. "I tell you," said Luke, "it isn’t anything of that sort, Betty. I’ve got to do what I’m going to do. You haven’t any choice, and neither have I. You might almost say it’s a religious question. It’s like saving my soul. I’ve got to do it; I’ve just got to; just because it’s the one right thing, I’ve got to do it. Why"—his manner grew tense—"you don’t know; even your father doesn’t know. This North Bridge wreck, with all those people killed and wounded: that’s what these men did, these men that are trying to keep me out of the district-attorneyship." "The North Bridge wreck?" snapped Forbes. "That was on the M. & N. What are you talking about, Huber?" Luke realized that he had gone further than the limits of his promise of temporary silence concerning the letters, but he was too bitterly tried not to go still further.