He meditated for a little then added decisively:
"But I've got him nailed tight."
The irresolution disappeared and the cruel smile stole out again.
"If he should win," was the jocular reflection. "We'll take a look at the little game proposed by Reddy Sykes. Reddy has a way—a fetching way." The name brought a certain merriness to his face. The humour was not attractive.
With a satisfied shrug he rocked back in his chair. As he did so his eyes rested on a photograph above his desk. Down upon him gazed two beautiful faces. Instantly a tender light softened the hard features. His lips moved, shaping involuntarily the names:
"Helen! Mary!"
The picture held his searching gaze until the sound of approaching footsteps broke the spell. At the sound the tender light vanished and a conflict surged over his face. Gradually his jaw set and the steel of the unyielding will revealed itself. The door opened quietly and in a moment a hand rested gently on his head. The voice that fell on his ear was sympathetic and affectionate. Mary had broken into his sanctum.
"Why, Daddy," she cried, "you are looking very serious. Are you troubled about something?"
The very solicitude of the voice seemed to chafe him.
"No," he exclaimed abruptly.