"To do that I must become an informer, the result of which would be to put another in my place. No, I can't do that; I've nothing to do at present and I might as well remain here."
"And let your old friend here be discharged, if not disgraced?" asked Mrs. Cowels.
"No, that must not be," said Moran, and he was then silent for a moment as if trying to work out a scheme to prevent that disaster to his much-loved superior. "You must let me think it over," he said, presently. "Let me think it over to-night."
"And let the guilty one escape," Mrs. Cowels added.
"Some people seem to think," said Moran, with just a faint attempt at a smile, "that the guilty one is quite secure."
"Don't talk nonsense, Dan," she said, "you know I believe you."
"And you, my friend?" he said as he extended his hand to the official.
"You know what I believe," said the visitor; "and now good-night—I shall see you again soon."
"I hope so," said Dan. "It is indeed very good of you to call, and of you, too," he added, as he turned to his fairer visitor. "I shall not forget your kindness to me, and only hope that I may be of some help to you in some way, and do something to show my appreciation of this visit and of your friendship. But," he added, glancing about him, "one can't be of much use to his friends shut up in a hole like this."
"You can do me a great favor, even while in prison," she said.