The wretched man drew the back of a trembling hand across his moist eyes. He inhaled a long sobbing breath and broke into apology for his weakness. “Haven't slept for a week except from trional. The back of my head pricks day and night. Can't think of anything but my troubles.” “Unload them on me,” Jeff said lightly. “It's that mortgage on my mill,” Killen blurted out. “It falls due this month and I can't meet it. Things haven't been going well with me.” “Can't you get it renewed?” “Through a dummy Big Tim has bought it up. He won't renew, unless--” Killen broke off, to continue in a moment: “And that ain't all. My little girl needs an operation awful badly. The doctor says she had ought to go to Chicago. I just can't raise the price.” “How much is the mortgage?” “Three thousand,” replied the man; and he added with a gust of weak despair, “My God, man! That mill's all I've got to keep bread in the mouths of my motherless children.” “I reckon Big Tim has offered to cancel the mortgage notes and give you about a thousand to go on,” Jeff suggested casually. Killen nodded. “It would put me on my feet again and give the kiddie her chance.” The answer had slipped out naturally, but now the fear chilled him that he had been lured into making a confession. “I didn't say I was going to take it,” he added hastily. “You're quite safe with me, Killen,” Jeff told him. He was wondering whether he could not get Captain Chunn to take over the mortgage. “I'm not so much struck on Hardy myself,” grumbled the legislator. “He's a rich man, just as Frome is. Six of one and half a dozen of the other, looks like to me.” “No, Killen. Frome represents the Transcontinental and the utility corporations. Hardy stands for the people. And you're pledged to support Hardy. You mustn't forget that.” “I ain't likely to forget that mortgage either,” Killen came back drearily. “I think I can arrange about having the mortgage renewed. Will that do?” “Yes. We're going to have a good year in the lumber business. Probably in twelve months I could clear it off.” “Good! And about the little girl--she'll have her chance. I promise you that.” The mill man wrung his hand, tears in his eyes. “You're a white man, Jeff, and a dashed good friend. I tell you I'd hate like poison to go back on Hardy. A fellow can't afford to do a thing like that. But what else could I do? A fellow's got to stand by the children he brings into the world, ain't he?” Farnum evaded with a smile this discussion of moral issues. “Well, you can stand by them and us, too, if I can fix up this mortgage proposition for you.” “When will you let me know?” asked Killen anxiously. “Will to-morrow morning do? In James' office, say.” “I'll have to know before noon,” Killen reminded him, flushing with embarrassment. “If I can arrange to get the money--and I think I can--I'll let you know at eleven. Don't worry, Sam. It will be all right.”