He looked into David's gleaming eyes, at the shoulders that promised too much strength, and his threatening attitude subsided. "Well, if you won't go for me, we'll see what you'll say to Rogers!" he snorted. "You come with me to his office." "If you want me, you'll find me in my room." David brushed roughly by the owner and went down the stairway. A minute later, the owner and Rogers entered the room. "Now you fire him," the owner ordered Rogers. "I ain't goin' to have no jailbirds around." "But he's given most excellent service for almost a year," Rogers protested in his quiet voice. "I ain't to be fooled by that trick," sneered the owner, with a wise look. "I ain't one o' them muckheads that believes because a thief's been straight for nine months he's always goin' to be straight. No sir! He's nine months nearer his next crooked stunt! Now fire him." "But--" "Cut out your 'buts'!" he roared, savagely. "Fire him or"--he looked threateningly at Rogers--"there's agents that will!" Rogers turned slowly upon David who was standing beside his table with burning eyes and clenched face. "I think you'll have to go, Aldrich," he said, after a moment. Without a word David picked up his hat and, followed by Tom, walked out of the room. As he tramped hotly through the streets--the boy, pale and silent, beside him--his bitterness was at first directed even against Rogers. But in a little while he remembered Rogers's situation, and that Rogers could not have saved him--and the bitterness ran out of him. In its place came the sharp realisation that he was again in the abyss--stronger, better able than a year before to make his way from its smooth-walled depths--but nevertheless in the abyss. What should he do? how should he get out?--these questions were constantly begging answers till, two hours later, wearied from walking, he came again into his room. Rogers rose from his table as he entered and looked questioningly at him. "You understand?--I had to do it?" "Yes," said David, taking the hand he held out. Rogers sent Tom out on an errand. After the boy had gone, anger slowly lit its fires in Rogers's thin white cheeks. "The hardest part of it all is, I dare not be a man, be myself!" he burst out fiercely. "You don't know how heavy and revolting this mask of discretion, of control, of subserviency, becomes at times! He should have been kicked out, stamped on! Ah, to be unafraid!--that's the greatest thing in the world!" He stood leaning on his tightened fists, which rested on the table, his eyes blazing across at David. But after a moment the red and flame began to die from his face and eyes. "Come, sit down," he said abruptly. "There's something I want to say to you."