“Why what a question coming from my practical father!” she said, forcing a laugh.  “I am choosing for myself, marrying of my own free will; is not that sufficient?”

“I tell you candidly, Gertrude,” he answered, “I do not like Mr. Larrabee’s looks.  I cannot think it possible that you can love him, and I beg of you if you do not, to draw back even now at this late hour.”

“It is too late, papa,” she returned, growing cold and hard; “and I do not wish it.  Is this all you wanted to say to me?”

“Yes,” he said, releasing her with a sigh.

She glided from the room and he spent the next half hour in pacing slowly back and forth with his head bowed upon his breast.

The door bell rang and the servant came in with a card.

Mr. Ross glanced at it, read the name with a look of pleased surprise, and said, “Show the gentleman in here.”

The next moment the two were shaking hands and greeting each other as old and valued friends.

“I’m very glad to see you, Gordon!” exclaimed Mr. Ross; “but what happy chance brought you here?  Are you not residing somewhere in the West?”

“Yes; in St. Louis; and it is not a happy chance, but a painful duty that has brought me to you to-night.”

He spoke hurriedly, as if to be done with an unpleasant task, and Mr. Ross’s pulses throbbed at the sudden recollection that Larrabee also was a resident of St. Louis.

He turned a quick, inquiring look upon his friend.  “Out with it, man!  I’m in no mood to wait, whether it be good news or ill.”

Gordon glanced toward the door.

Mr. Ross stepped to it and turned the key; then coming back, seated himself close to his friend with the air of one who is ready for anything.

“Phil, my old chum,” said Gordon, clapping him affectionately on the shoulder, “I heard the other day in St. Louis, that Larrabee was about to marry a daughter of yours, and I took the first eastern bound train and traveled night and day to get here in time to put a stop to the thing.  I hope I’m not too late.”

“What do you know of the man?” asked Mr. Ross steadily and looking Gordon full in the eye, but with a paling cheek.

“Know of him? that he made all his money by gambling; that he is a murderer.”

The last word was spoken low and close to the listener’s ear.

Mr. Ross started back—­horrified—­deadly pale.

“Gordon! do you know whereof you affirm?” he asked low and huskily.

“I do; I had the account from one who was an eye-witness of the affair.  He is dead now, and I do not suppose it would be possible to prove the thing in a court of justice; but nevertheless I assure you it is true.

“It was thirty years ago, on a Mississippi steamer, running between St. Louis and New Orleans, that the deed was done.