“I can’t take any chances,” said the other insolently. “What I’ve got to say wants to be between us two--you’ll want it to be when you hear it.” Matthewson flushed and an angry retort leaped to his lips. This, however, he suppressed and made necessity to ask the cause of the visit. “I’ve come to report,” said Cranston. Then, as the other waited, he added: “I’ve been at work in Bangor.” Then, after another pause: “I’ve learned things in Bangor that you ought to know.” “It relates to the murder?” “No, not directly. It relates to Theodore Wing’s mother.” He said it defiantly; as if he was throwing down the gage of battle. It required a mighty effort on Matthewson’s part to control himself, and yet he knew that to fail meant that this terrible thing, which as yet remained unspoken, would be uttered in words and that he must hear it. “I have become satisfied,” he said slowly and with an effort to control himself and appear dispassionate, “that the identity of Wing’s mother has no bearing on the murder or on the discovery of the murderer. You will, therefore, drop that part of the investigation and confine yourself to the other features. In this all who were concerned in employing you are agreed.” “How long since?” the man demanded insolently. “That is of no consequence,” Matthewson said. “You are now informed of the fact, so that your new instructions date from this moment.” “It’s too late for you to accomplish anything by that dodge,” he said. “I’ve found out who Wing’s mother is. The story’s worth money. I’ll give you the first chance to buy. Do you want it?” Matthewson trembled, as he realised the full significance of this demand. More than his mother possibly could, he knew how such a story would be received; how impossible it would be, once set afloat, to stop it or overcome it. Still, he put on a bold front. “Whatever you may have learned, it was while you were under our pay. The information belongs to us and you can’t afford to make it a matter of barter.” “What I’ve found out,” Cranston returned defiantly, “is worth so much that I can afford to take some risks. If you want it, you can have it for a price. If not, the highest bidder gets it, and in a State where ex-Governor Matthewson’s got as many enemies as he’s got in Maine, there won’t be any trouble about finding buyers.” “There’s no need to drag in my father’s name,” Matthewson replied. “How do you know there ain’t?” the other demanded. “Maybe you’ll be surprised at the names that are dragged in before we’re through.” It was Matthewson’s impulse to throw the man out of doors, without regard to consequences; but before him came a face that had watched him lovingly and tenderly from his earliest memory--a face that he had seen only a few days before pleading to him, as he had never dreamed a woman’s face could plead. His hands clutched nervously; but for the sake of that face and that love, he held himself in restraint.