John in the fullness of his heart draws her toward him and kisses her reverently. “God bless you, sister,” he says brokenly; while her words have caused Aleck to suddenly remember the fortune teller of Cairo Street and wonder what part she will have in the last scene of this strange play, the dramatic climax arranged by the wily Turk. “John,” says Samson Cereal, “you have heard this sad story from our good friend Craig. Do you hate me for the part I have played in it?” “No, no, father. I can imagine your painful position. I blame no one. It is, as you say, a sad thing, indeed. The only way now is to forget the past.” “That is right, John, you speak sensibly.” “And endeavor to make my poor mother’s last days as easy as may be. She erred, but she has nobly atoned for the past. Let us not judge lest we be judged.” “How is she? May we not see her, father?” “Here comes the doctor. He has made her as easy as possible. Ask him!” The physician can see no harm in it. He has given her a sleeping potion, but knows that a glimpse of happiness will do even more to bring ease of mind; so, with a warning, he grants them permission. Aleck takes his leave. He shakes hands with each in parting, for it seems to him he is in some way affiliated with these good people, since circumstances control his destiny and places it side by side with theirs. Perhaps he squeezes the small hand Dorothy places in his; at any rate she blushes beautifully at the words he says, so low that other ears hear not, and when he has gone, glances smilingly at the mark upon her finger made by the setting of a ring, which is ocular proof regarding the warmth of a Canadian handshake. _BOOK FOUR._ THE SPIDER’S WEB OF CAIRO STREET. CHAPTER XXV. DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND. Craig is as good as his word. At the hour appointed he appears at the house of the great grain manipulator. John meets him at the door and welcomes him, but is on the way down town to attend to some important business for his father connected with the deal that has given the operator new life. “I thought I saw our friend the sheriff down on Clark Street, aboard a car,” Craig remarks, at which the other smiles. “Yes, he was here. I had a long chat with Bob, and he starts home to-night satisfied. He put in the night watching the Sherman, but of course Phœnix never turned up again. By this time he is in Canada, if he caught that late train. I will be back in an hour or two. Stay to dinner.” “Thanks,” returns Aleck, mentally deciding to await an invitation from Dorothy or her father before committing himself. “You’ll find father in the library, I believe; walk right in, Craig, I must be gone.” Aleck knows the way. That library will never be forgotten by him, since the strange occurrences of the preceding night.