You're sorry, my father-in-law is sorry, and I suppose my mother-in-law is shedding tears for me, too. You're all sorry and you're all wearing c.r.a.pe for us, but why can't some of you _do_ something?"

The lawyer said nothing. He still stared at her in a strange, absent-minded kind of way, until finally she lost patience. Boldly she said:

"Well, you sent for me. What do you want to see me about, judge?"

"I want to tell you that you mustn't come here again," he answered.

"Anything else?" she exclaimed.

The judge began to fuss with the papers on his desk, as he usually did when embarra.s.sed for words.

"Of course," he stammered, "you will be amply compensated."

"Of course," she cried. Rising from her chair, she shrugged her shoulders, and said:

"Oh, well, this is not my lucky day. They wouldn't let me into the prison to see Howard to-day. Captain Clinton doesn't like me. He has always tried to prevent my seeing Howard, but I'll see him to-morrow, captain or no captain. He can make up his mind to that!"

The lawyer looked up at her.

"Poor girl--you are having a hard time, aren't you?"

"Things have been better," she replied, with a tremor in her voice.

"Howard and I were very happy when we first----" A sob choked her utterance, and she forced a laugh, saying: "Here, I must keep off that subject----"

"Why do you laugh?" demanded the lawyer.

Already hysterical, Annie had great difficulty in keeping back her tears.

"Well, if I don't laugh," she sobbed, "I'll cry; and as I don't want to cry--why--I just laugh. It's got to be one or the other--see----?"

He said nothing, and she continued:

"Well, I guess I'll go home--home--that's the worst part of it--home----"

She stopped short, she could go no further. Her bosom was heaving, the hot tears were rolling down her cheeks. The old lawyer turned away his head so that she might not see the suspicious redness in his eyes.

Moving toward the door, she turned around.

"Well, you have your own troubles, judge. I'll go now, but I'll come again to-morrow. Perhaps you'll have better news for me."

The lawyer waved her back to her seat with a commanding gesture she could not resist. There was determination around his mouth; in his face was an expression she had not seen there before.

"Sit down again for a moment," he said sharply. "I want to ask you a question. How do you account for Howard's confessing to the shooting?"

"I don't account for it," she replied, as she resumed her seat. "He says he didn't confess. I don't believe he did."

"But three witnesses----"

"Who are the witnesses?" she interrupted contemptuously. "Policemen!"

"That makes no difference," he said. "He made a confession and signed----"

Annie leaned forward. What did this questioning mean? Was the judge becoming interested after all? Her heart gave a leap as she answered eagerly:

"He confessed against his will. I mean--he didn't know what he was doing at the time. I've had a talk with the physician who was called in--Dr.

Bernstein. He says that Captain Clinton is a hypnotist, that he can compel people to say what he wants them to say. Well, Howard is--what they call a subject--they told him he did it till he believed he did."

She looked narrowly at the lawyer to see what effect her words were having, but to her great disappointment the judge was apparently paying not the slightest attention. He was gazing out of the window and drumming his fingers absent-mindedly on the desk. Utterly discouraged, she again rose.

"Oh, well, what's the use----?"

The judge quickly put out his hand and partly pushed her back in the chair.

"Don't go," he said. Then he added:

"Who told you he was a hypnotic subject?"

Her hopes revived once more. Quickly she said:

"Dr. Bernstein. Besides, Howard told me so himself. A friend of his at college used to make him cut all sorts of capers."

"A friend at college, eh? Do you remember his name?"

"Howard knows it."

"Um!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the lawyer. He took up a pad and wrote a memorandum on it. Then aloud he said: "I'd like to have a little talk with Dr.

Bernstein. I think I'll ask him to come and see me. Let me see. His address is----"

"342 Madison Avenue," she exclaimed eagerly.

The lawyer jotted the address down, and then he looked up.

"So you think I'm afraid of Mr. Jeffries, do you?"

She smiled.

"Oh, no, not really afraid," she answered, "but just--scared. I didn't mean----"

Judge Brewster was enjoying the situation hugely. He had quite made up his mind what to do, but he liked to quiz this bold young woman who had not been afraid to show him where his duty lay. Striving to keep a serious face, he said:

"Oh, yes, you did, and I want you to understand I'm not afraid of any man. As to allowing my personal interests to interfere with my duty----"

Annie took alarm. She was really afraid she had offended him.

"Oh, I didn't say that, did I?" she exclaimed timidly.

Judge Brewster forced his face into a frown.

"You said I knew on which side my bread was b.u.t.tered!"