ARSON was slightly weakened by the loss of blood and the unusual tax on his strength, and yet, wearing a strip of sticking-plaster as the only sign of his wound, he was at the office betimes the next morning, anxious to make an early start into the arrangements for a hurried preliminary trial of his client. Garner, as, was that worthy's habit when kept up late at night, was still asleep in the den when Helen called.
Carson was at his desk, bending over a law-book, his pipe in his mouth, when, looking up, he saw her standing in the doorway and rose instantly, a flush of gratification on his face.
“I've come to see you about poor Pete,” she began, her pale face taking on color as if from the heat of his own. “I know it's early, but I couldn't wait. Mam' Linda was in my room this morning at the break of day, sitting by my bed rocking back and forth and moaning.”
“She's uneasy, of course,” Carson said. “That's only natural of a mother placed as she is.”
“Oh yes,” Helen answered, with a sigh. “She was thoroughly happy last night over his rescue, but now you see she's got something else to worry about. She now wonders if he will be allowed a fair trial.”
“The boy must have that,” Carson said, and then his face clouded over and he held himself more erect as he glanced past her out at the door. “Is Mr. Sanders—did he come with you? You see, I met him on the way to your house as I came down.”
“Yes, he's there talking over the trouble with my father,” Helen made rather awkward answer. “He came in to breakfast, but—but I wasn't at the table. I was with Mam' Linda.” And thereupon Helen blushed more deeply over the reflection that these last words might sound like intentional and even presumptuous balm to the sensitiveness of a rejected suitor.
“I was afraid he might be waiting on the outside,” Carson said, awkwardly. “I want to show hospitality to a stranger in town, you know, but somehow I can't exactly do my full duty in his case.”
“You are not expected to,” and Helen had tripped again, as her fresh color proved. “I mean, Carson—” But she could go no further.
“Well, I am unequal to it, anyway,” Carson replied, with tightening lips and a steady, honest stare. “I don't dislike him personally. I hold no actual grudge against him. From all I've heard of him he is worthy of any woman's love and deepest respect. I'm simply off the committee of entertainment during his stay.”