Five minutes later we were on First Avenue, which was crowded with thousands of sightseers, it being Saturday night, and everybody seemed to be out for a good time. Watson led me up Spring Street to the alley between First and Second Avenues and then went down the alley till, reaching the shadow of a tall building, he said: “Please wait here a minute, Mrs. Beebe.” I looked down at the brilliantly lighted street corner on First Avenue, where is situated the Rainier-Grand Hotel, and there I saw Swiftwater standing, smoking a cigar, while hundreds of people were passing up and down the sidewalk. He little looked as if the deputy sheriffs were after him. In a moment Watson had brought Swiftwater to me. “Mrs. Beebe,” said Swiftwater, “what did you wire to Bera? Did you tell her I was coming out and to have me arrested?” “I certainly wired her,” said I, “and, Swiftwater, if she’s had you arrested that’s your business.” “Mrs. Beebe, you’ve been the only friend I’ve ever had and now you have thrown me down,” said the miner. Said I, “Swiftwater, I have not thrown you down, and it’s about time that you showed some indication of trying to do what is right by me and Bera and the babies.” “Here’s that $250 I borrowed from you on the boat,” said Swiftwater, “and I guess after all that you are really the only friend I ever had in this world. Won’t you tell me what to do now?” I hesitated a moment and then it seemed to me that there was little to be gained by having Swiftwater thrown into jail without any chance whatever to secure his release on bail. In spite of all that I had suffered from him, and all the untold misery and humiliation that he had put upon my daughter Bera, I felt sorry for Swiftwater. “You had better take this $250 back,” said I, “as you may have to get out of town tonight. Have you any other money on you?” “Not a cent,” said he. “Very well, you can pay me that money you owe some other time,” I said. Then Swiftwater and I fell to talking as to what had best be done. He wanted very much to see Bera and the babies and begged me, if I thought it safe, to take him to the hotel. Finally, seeing the big crowd on the streets, I consented, and together we went to the Cecil, entered the elevator and then went directly to my rooms. Bera was there with the boy Freddie--the youngest. Swiftwater kissed Bera and the baby, but Bera turned away and went into another room, the tears streaming down her face. “Mrs. Beebe,” said Swiftwater, “the penitentiary will be my fate unless this bigamy charge is withdrawn. You and Bera and the babies will lose if I go to state’s prison, and that is where Kitty Gates will send me unless Bera will get a divorce.” Just then there came a loud rap at the door, and without waiting for either of us to speak the door was opened and in walked two deputy sheriffs. They immediately placed Swiftwater under arrest. CHAPTER XVI.