ONE by one the boys engaged in the masquerade at the Judge’s the night of his death slipped out of Independence from various nearby stations and left for the West. An hour before the time for Billy’s train going North John went to his room for a chat before saying good-bye. Billy had begun to unpack his trunk.

John seized his arm.

“What’s this—what’s the matter?”

“I’m not going!” he snapped.

“Why not?”

“I’ve found out that you may be put on trial for your life.”

“Well, what’s that got to do with your education?”

“You’re just packing me off to get me out of danger.”

“Suppose I am?”

“I’m not going to sneak out of trouble and leave you to stand for what I’ve done.”

“I’m responsible, my boy.”

“You’re not. You tried to keep me out of it. I got Steve Hoyle to take me in. I knew what I was doing. I was a headstrong fool.”

“Because you’ve been a fool is no reason why you should keep it up. Don’t talk any more nonsense. Hurry—put your clothes back in that trunk—you must catch this train.”

“No!” was the dogged answer.

John put his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“You must do it for me, Billy. I’m trying to make good my failure. I ought to have been both father and mother to you. I was neither—I didn’t know how—forgive me! I let you slip away. It seems to me now it would have been very easy for me to have taken you by the hand, and with a jo............