happens to bring the police into the case and the newspapers get hold of it,—that wouldn't do a thing to Hale, would it? Stanway would use it so they'd not only knock out all Hale's chances for the big job but—to take no chances at all—Stanway'd see that Tri-Lake kicked Hale out on the street right now; and, after the way that'd be done, who'd pick him up? I'd risk a word for his family's sake, and Bill's, if I was going by his house to-night!"
Gregg walked to the window, his head down; and slowly he came back. "Glad you told me," he said at last to Jim. "What direction are you going to-night?"
"South Shore Club."
"I thought it wasn't in the direction of Evanston. Have a good time, Jimmy."
"'Night, Gregg."
Left alone in his room, Gregg stared at the wall. Suppose that this, which threatened, should happen; suppose he stood by and let it, without making a move to save any one. Bill? Gregg jerked, almost with a shudder, as he thought of what that would do to Bill. And what to Marjorie? Something too frightful for Gregg to imagine happening to her. For to her, how wonderful and honorable a man was her father; to her, how wonderful and glorious and clean was life! Gregg knew no one else who felt such faith in goodness of living; to her, to be alive meant to be gay and confident and unafraid. He could not think of her after that, if it found her; Majorie in ignominy and shame!
Gregg straightened about, suddenly, as he did when making a decision; he went through the bathroom, and without ceremony, opened Billy Whittaker's door to
