At one o'clock that day, one of the officials unlocked the door of his cell and took him down into a counsel room. Sitting there at a table was a woman with her face in her hands.
"Oh, father, I couldn't stay away!" she cried, springing to her feet and smiling bravely.
"Leslie—you here—you!" And the next moment he had gathered her in his arms and was patting the head that rested on his shoulders.
"I'm so glad to see you, that you're alive and well," she went on affectionately. "Colonel Morehead told me——"
"What's Morehead doing?" broke in her father, putting her gently from him.
"Turning my stocks and bonds into cash, or getting a surety company bond on them, I don't know which. Isn't it lucky, father, that I had enough—more than enough to help you out? The Colonel says you may have to stay here two or three nights...."
Wilkinson was beside himself.
"I won't—I won't stay here," he raged. "I'll take the risk——"
"What risk?" she asked wonderingly.