THE GIRL WHO CRIED
Crawley, after a moment's hesitation, poured out another drink and gulped it down.
"I have n't had a drink to-day," he said apologetically.
"That is an obvious lie," said the younger man; "but now to get to business. I don't know what your game is in England, but I will tell you what mine is. I want a free hand, and I can only have a free hand if you take your daughter away out of the country."
"You want to get rid of her, eh?" asked the other, looking at him shrewdly.
The young man nodded.
"I tell you, she 's a millstone round my neck," he said for the second time that evening, "and I am scared of her. At any moment she may do some fool thing and ruin me."
Crawley grinned.
"'For better or for worse,'" he quoted, and then, seeing the ugly look in the other man's face, he said: "Don't try to frighten me, Mr. Brown or Jones, or whatever you call your-
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