"It was some of those confounded laboring people," said John Rawn, frowning. "Yes—they came here after Halsey."
"Yes? But was anybody hurt?"
"Well," said John Rawn, "Halsey—Charley Halsey—you remember him, I believe? Well, they shot him.
—"Good-night, Laura," he added suddenly, and held out his hand to her, generously, nobly. "I'm very sleepy. I've been up so long—and I've a lot to do to-morrow. After all, there's no use in our having hard feelings. Good-by."
THE END