"No harm done," grinned Halloran, looking queerly after his recent prisoner. "But I could have sworn—" I interrupted him with a boisterous laugh.
"Not at all, officer. Sorry you had the trouble—many thanks for your watchfulness. See you to-morrow."
"All right!" he responded with smart alacrity. "Good night, sir." I closed the door.
In the room the lad Randolph sat alone, somewhat straighter now, gazing before him. He must have heard the colloquy at the door.
"Well, Randolph," I approached him quietly, "now what do you want to say to me?"
He did not answer for a space. Finally he spoke:
"What are you going to do with me, Uncle Ranny?"
My anger against him had subsided. I saw only the frail young mortal, Laura's son, whom I had undertaken to make a man of—and I had failed!
"What do you think I ought to do with you?" I queried gently. There was no longer even rancor in my heart.
"Put me away, I guess," he answered dully. "That's what I deserve."