“This house is mortgaged, isn’t it?” Anderson snapped.
This hit home, for the place was mortgaged to the hilt, and the notes were due the following month. Ransom paled, but his eyes were steady as he gazed into Anderson’s granitelike brown ones.
“Is that a threat?” he asked.
“Only a reminder,” Anderson said savagely. The next moment the judge heard the front door slam, and he was alone.
Slowly he paced the floor. He and his wife had struggled for his present position, for this home. What sacrifices she had made to allow him to finish law school, and through the years of poverty that had followed his graduation! Little by little, after that, came success, until recently they had dreamed of the time when he would go to Washington, a United States senator. All that rosy future had seemed assured—until last month.
Now, not only the future, but the present, might be wiped out. Their savings were wasted; his hope of reëlection crumbled; their home would go next. All because of a murder trial with its mysterious ramifications. There would be no college for Mary, no ease in old age for his wife.
Rebellion and temptation seized him. What right had he to bring ruin on his family? All he had to do was to let events take their course, as Anderson had directed. His credit would be good once more; his dreams of Washington might come true. Back and forth he walked and struggled with the devils of temptation.
A door opened gently, and Snippets stood before him.
“Uncle,” she said softly, “I heard. I couldn’t help it.”
“You heard?” he said, and his voice was harsh. “Then what shall I do? Ruin my wife and child?”