"Sane enough that I don't intend to be connected with a lottery! I have conscientious scruples about it." "May I ask, then, how you propose to decide these so-called loans?" inquired Turner, with palm-rubbing agitation. "Examine the records of the men who have made application," explained Wallingford; "find out their respective reputations for honesty, reliability and prompt payment, and place the different loans, according to that information, in as many different towns as possible." Doc Turner gazed at him in scorn for a full minute. "You're a damned fool!" he declared. "Why, you yourself intended to conduct this as a secret society, and I had intended to have representatives from at least three of the lodges attend each drawing." To this Wallingford made no reply, and Turner, to ease his mind, locked the door on the lottery-wheel and went in to open the mail. It always soothed him to take money from envelopes. A great many of the letters pertaining to the business of the company were addressed to Wallingford in person, and Turner slit open all such letters as a matter of course. Half-way down the pile he opened one, addressed to Wallingford, which made him gasp and re-read. The letter read: DEAR JIM: They have found out your new name and where you are, and unless you get out of town on the first train they'll arrest you sure. I don't need to remind you that they don't hold manslaughter as a light offense in Massachusetts. Let me know your new name and address as soon as you have got safely away. YOUR OLD PAL. Doc Turner's own fingers were trembling as he passed this missive to Wallingford, whose expectant eyes had been furtively fixed upon the pile of letters for some time. "Too bad, old man," said Turner, tremulously aghast. "Couldn't help reading it." "My God!" exclaimed Wallingford most dramatically. "It has come at last, just as I had settled down to lead a quiet, decent, respectable life, with every prospect in my favor!" He sprang up and looked at his watch. "I'll have to move on again!" he dismally declared; "and I suppose they'll chase me from one cover to another until they finally get me; but I'll never give up! Please see what's coming to me, Mr. Turner; you have the cash in the house to pay me, I know; and kindly get my stock certificates from the safe." Slowly and thoughtfully Turner took from the safe Wallingford's four hundred and ninety-seven shares of stock, in four certificates of a hundred shares each, one of fifty and one of forty-seven. Wallingford hurried them into an envelope, sitting down to write the address upon it. "What are you going to do with those?" asked Turner with a thoughtful frown. "Send them to my friend in Boston and have him sell them for what he can get," replied Wallingford with a sigh. "If the purchasers send any one here to find out about the business, you'll, of course, give them every facility for investigation."