The sound startled Woodford and reminded him of something. He arose and went to the window and stood looking at the gaunt old building.
Yes, there was the Law. He had almost forgotten that, and the Law would not tolerate wrong. It hated the evil-doer, and hunted him down even to the death, and punished him. Men were often weak and half blind, but the Law was strong always, and its eyes were far-sighted. The world was not so large that the rogue could hide from it. In its strength it would seek him out and hold him responsible for the evil he had done. It stood ever in its majesty between the knave and those upon whom he sought to prey; its shadow, heavy with warning, lay always before the faces of vicious men.
In his bitterness, Woodford thanked Heaven that this was true. From the iron hand of the Law; William Harris should have vengeance visited upon him to the very rim of the measure.
VI.
Randolph Mason looked up from his desk as William Harris burst into his office. The commission-merchant's face was red, and he was panting with excitement. "Mr. Mason," he cried, "there is trouble on foot; you must help me out!"
"Trouble," echoed Mason, "is it any new thing to meet? Why do you come back with your petty matters?"
"It is no petty matter, sir," said Harris; "you planned the whole thing for me, and you said it was no crime. Now they are trying to put me in the penitentiary. You must have been wrong when you said it was no crime."
"Wrong?" said Mason, sharply. "What fool says I am wrong?"