Before he reached the door Jeff stopped. Something unusual was happening within. There came to him the sounds of shuffling feet, of furniture being smashed, of an angry oath. Almost at once there was a thud, as if something heavy had fallen. The listener judged that a live body was thrashing around actively. The impact of blows, a heavy grunt, a second stifled curse, decided Farnum. Pushing through the outer office, he entered the one usually occupied by James. Two men were on the floor, one astride of the other. The man on top was driving home heavy jarring blows against his opponent's face and head. Jeff ran forward and dragged him away. “Good heavens, Sam! What's the matter?” his friend demanded in surprise. Miller waited panting, his fists still doubled, the lust of battle in his eyes. “The damned cad! The damned cad!” was all he could get out. From the floor James Farnum was rising. His forehead, his cheek, and his lips were bleeding from cuts. One of his eyes was closing rapidly. There was a dogged look of fear in the battered face. “I tripped over a chair, he explained, glaring at his foe. “Damn you then, stand up and fight!” Disgust and annoyance were pictured on the damaged countenance of the lawyer. “I don't fight with riff raff from the streets.” With a lurch Miller was free from Jeff and at him again. James lashed straight out and cut open his lip without stopping him. Jeff wrenched the furious man back again. A moment later he made a discovery. The fear of his cousin was not physical. “Here! Stop it, man! What's the row about?” Jeff hung on with a strangle hold while he fired his questions. Sam turned a distorted face toward him. “Nellie.” The truth crashed home like a bolt of lightning. James was the man who had betrayed Nellie Anderson. The thing was incredible, but Jeff knew instantly it was so. Except where the blood streamed down it the face of the lawyer was colorless. His lips twitched. “Is this true, James?” The sullen eyes of the detected man fell. “It will ruin me. It will ruin my career. And all because in a moment of fearful temptation I yielded, God help me.” “God help you!” The angry scorn in Miller's voice burned like vitriol. “God help you! you selfish villain and coward! You pursued her! You hounded her. You made your own temptation--and hers. And afterward you left her to bear a lifetime of shame--to kill herself if she couldn't stand it. When I think of you, smug liar and hell hound, I know that killing isn't good enough for you.” “Steady, old man,” counseled Jeff. Miller began to tremble violently. Tears gathered in his eyes and coursed down his fat cheeks. “And I can't stamp him out. I can't expose him without hurting her worse. I've got to stand it without touching him.” Faintly Jeff smiled. James did not look quite untouched. He was a much battered statue of virtue, his large dignity for once torn to shreds.