By a mutual impulse Devreaux and Dexter crossed behind her. The colonel passed both arms about her, caught her wrists, and stopped the paper from rustling. Then he and the corporal leaned over the girl's shoulder to peruse the story for themselves.
It was a short telegraphic item, tucked away on an inside page, and they saw at a glance that Archie had not misread the account. The item told of a practicing physician who had been suddenly afflicted with a criminal dementia. He had destroyed two of his patients by slyly switching the medicines he had prescribed. His mental state was not discovered until after he had wantonly committed a second murder. Under cross-questioning he had broken down in confession, and the authorities then were able to establish proof positive of his guilt in the two separate crimes. His first victim was a wealthy bachelor, Oscar Preston. The dead man's nephew, Archie, the account went on to say, was falsely accused of the murder and indicted on a first degree charge. With his sister Alison, his co-heir in the Preston estate, the boy had fled. At the time of writing the whereabouts of the fugitives was unknown. Every effort had been made to find them, but so far the search had proven unsuccessful. The authorities were still hoping to get into communication with the missing brother and sister, not to arrest them now, but to restore their rights under the law.
Alison somehow managed to read through the blurred paragraph of type, and as she finished her fingers unlocked and the paper fluttered from her hands. With a sudden movement she turned to face her brother.
"Archie!" She looked at the boy for a moment with tears brimming her eyes, and then she went to him, and her arms reached out and clasped tightly about his shoulders. "It's over—it's over!" she sobbed. "You can go back home—everything's all right! I'm so glad, I—I don't know what to say."
Colonel Devreaux scrutinized the pair for a moment from under frowning brows, and then he too walked forward. "Well, I suppose you're open to congratulations, Archie," he remarked brusquely.
The boy gently disengaged himself from Alison's embrace. "It's fine—it's wonderful!" he asserted jubilantly. "I can hardly believe it!"
"I wonder if you really appreciate your good fortune?" inquired the officer as he stared grimly at the young man.
"I do!" exclaimed the other. "I can go back. No more suffering and hardship! I can face my friends. I can take my old place again!"
The lines of Devreaux's face seemed to grow deeper and more inflexible as he listened. "You don't even begin to understand," he rasped out. "You've got the finest thing that was ever given to a man, and you haven't given it a thought. I'm talking about the loyalty that has stood by in your time of need—that would have gone with you through the blazing pit. You're thinking how nice it will be to get back to town, a free man—and I'm thinking about your sister."
The boy's eyes opened with a startled expression, and a slow flush darkened his face. "I—you're wrong," he returned unsteadily. "I'm thinking of her too. Alison! She's been magnificent!"