"As you please. Good night, sir."

"Good night," replied Ryder, not looking up.

With a significant glance at Shirley, who motioned to him that she might yet succeed where he had failed, Stott left the room. Ryder turned to Shirley. His fierceness of manner softened down as he addressed the girl:

"You see what they have done to my son--"

"Yes," replied Shirley, "it's the girl's fault. If Jefferson hadn't loved her you would have helped the judge. Ah, why did they ever meet! She has worked on his sympathy and he--he took these letters for her sake, not to injure you. Oh, you must make some allowance for him! One's sympathy gets aroused in spite of oneself; even I feel sorry for--these people."

"Don't," replied Ryder grimly, "sympathy is often weakness. Ah, there you are!" turning to Jefferson, who entered the room at that moment.

"You sent for me, father?"

"Yes," said Ryder, Sr., holding up the letters. "Have you ever seen these letters before?"

Jefferson took the letters and examined them, then he pa.s.sed them back to his father and said frankly:

"Yes, I took them out of your desk and sent them to Mr. Stott in the hope they would help Judge Rossmore's case."

Ryder restrained himself from proceeding to actual violence only with the greatest difficulty. His face grew white as death, his lips were compressed, his hands twitched convulsively, his eyes flashed dangerously. He took another cigar to give the impression that he had himself well under control, but the violent trembling of his hands as he lit it betrayed the terrific strain he was under.

"So!" he said, "you deliberately sacrificed my interests to save this woman's father--you hear him, Miss Green? Jefferson, my boy, I think it's time you and I had a final accounting."

Shirley made a motion as if about to withdraw. He stopped her with a gesture.

"Please don't go, Miss Green. As the writer of my biography you are sufficiently well acquainted with my family affairs to warrant your being present at the epilogue. Besides, I want an excuse for keeping my temper. Sit down, Miss Green."

Turning to Jefferson, he went on:

"For your mother's sake, my boy, I have overlooked your little eccentricities of character. But now we have arrived at the parting of the ways--you have gone too far. The one aspect of this business I cannot overlook is your willingness to sell, your own father for the sake of a woman."

"My own father," interrupted Jefferson bitterly, "would not hesitate to sell me if his business and political interests warranted the sacrifice!"

Shirley attempted the role of peacemaker. Appealing to the younger man, she said:

"Please don't talk like that, Mr. Jefferson." Then she turned to Ryder, Sr.: "I don't think your son quite understands you, Mr.

Ryder, and, if you will pardon me, I don't think you quite understand him. Do you realize that there is a man's life at stake--that Judge Rossmore is almost at the point of death and that favourable news from the Senate to-morrow is perhaps the only thing that can save him?"

"Ah, I see," sneered Ryder, Sr. "Judge Stott's story has aroused your sympathy."

"Yes, I--I confess my sympathy is aroused. I do feel for this father whose life is slowly ebbing away--whose strength is being sapped hourly by the thought of the disgrace--the injustice that is being done him! I do feel for the wife of this suffering man!"

"Ah, its a complete picture!" cried Ryder mockingly. "The dying father, the sorrowing mother--and the daughter, what is she supposed to be doing?"

"She is fighting for her father's life," cried Shirley, "and you, Mr. Jefferson, should have pleaded--pleaded--not demanded. It's no use trying to combat your father's will."

"She is quite right, father. I should have implored you. I do so now. I ask you for G.o.d's sake to help us!"

Ryder was grim and silent. He rose from his seat and paced the room, puffing savagely at his cigar. Then he turned and said:

"His removal is a political necessity. If he goes back on the bench every paltry justice of the peace, every petty official will think he has a special mission to tear down the structure that hard work and capital have erected. No, this man has been especially conspicuous in his efforts to block the progress of amalgamated interests."

"And so he must be sacrificed?" cried Shirley indignantly.

"He is a meddlesome man," insisted Ryder "and--"

"He is innocent of the charges brought against him," urged Jefferson.

"Mr. Ryder is not considering that point," said Shirley bitterly.

"All he can see is that it is necessary to put this poor old man in the public pillory, to set him up as a warning to others of his cla.s.s not to act in accordance with the principles of Truth and Justice--not to dare to obstruct the car of Juggernaut set in motion by the money G.o.ds of the country!"

"It's the survival of the fittest, my dear," said Ryder coldly.

"Oh!" cried Shirley, making a last appeal to the financier's heart of stone, "use your great influence with this governing body for good, not evil! Urge them to vote not in accordance with party policy and personal interest, but in accordance with their consciences--in accordance with Truth and Justice! Ah, for G.o.d's sake, Mr. Ryder! don't permit this foul injustice to blot the name of the highest tribunal in the Western world!"

Ryder laughed cynically.

"By Jove! Jefferson, I give you credit for having secured an eloquent advocate!"

"Suppose," went on Shirley, ignoring his taunting comments, "suppose this daughter promises that she will never--never see your son again--that she will go away to some foreign country!"

"No!" burst in Jefferson, "why should she? If my father is not man enough to do a simple act of justice without bartering a woman's happiness and his son's happiness, let him find comfort in his self-justification!"

Shirley, completely unnerved, made a move towards the door, unable longer to bear the strain she was under. She tottered as though she would fall. Ryder made a quick movement towards his son and took him by the arm. Pointing to Shirley he said in a low tone:

"You see how that girl pleads your cause for you! She loves you, my boy!" Jefferson started. "Yes, she does," pursued Ryder, Sr.

"She's worth a thousand of the Rossmore woman. Make her your wife and I'll--"

"Make her my wife!" cried Jefferson joyously. He stared at his parent as if he thought he had suddenly been bereft of his senses.

"Make her my wife?" he repeated incredulously.

"Well, what do you say?" demanded Ryder, Sr.

The young man advanced towards Shirley, hands outstretched.

"Yes, yes, Shir--Miss Green, will you?" Seeing that Shirley made no sign, he said: "Not now, father; I will speak to her later."

"No, no, to-night, at once!" insisted Ryder. Addressing Shirley, he went on: "Miss Green, my son is much affected by your disinterested appeal in his behalf. He--he--you can save him from himself--my son wishes you--he asks you to become his wife! Is it not so, Jefferson?"

"Yes, yes, my wife!" advancing again towards Shirley.

The girl shrank back in alarm.

"No, no, no, Mr. Ryder, I cannot, I cannot!" she cried.

"Why not?" demanded Ryder, Sr. appealingly. "Ah, don't--don't decide hastily--"

Shirley, her face set and drawn and keen mental distress showing in every line of it, faced the two men, pale and determined. The time had come to reveal the truth. This masquerade could go on no longer. It was not honourable either to her father or to herself.