“I didn’t mean that! God!” he cried, “is confession of a thing I never did the fee you exact for saving a life?”
“What, you still hold out?”
“I’m not guilty! I tell you, I’m not guilty!”
“Then you’ll not confess?”
“Never! Never!”
“Not even to save your mother?”
“She’s sick—very sick. But she’s not going to die—I’ll not let her die! Your father does not have to be cleared to get out of jail. In this emergency I can arrange to get him out for a time on parole. What do you say?”
She gazed at the desperate, wildly expectant figure. A little shiver ran through her.
“What do you say?” he repeated.
“There can be but one answer,” she replied. “My father is too big a man to demand any price for his medical skill—even the restoration of his honest name by the man who stole it. Parole him, and he will go instantly to Mrs. Blake.”