“I’ll stay here until this other thing is settled,” was Willy’s invariable answer.  “I have a certain amount of time here, and the fellows can drop in to see me without causing suspicion.  In an office it would be different.  And besides, I can’t throw Mr. Davis down.  His wife is in bad shape.”

So, that afternoon, Pink waited until the Committee had dispersed, and then said, with some difficulty: 

“I saw her, Cameron.  She has promised to leave.”

“To-day?”

“This afternoon.  I wanted to take her away, but she had some things to do.”

“Then she hadn’t known before?”

“No.  She thought it was just talk.  And they’d kept the papers from her.  She hadn’t heard about last night.  Well, that’s all.  I thought you’d want to know.”

Pink started out, but Willy Cameron called him back.

“Have any of your people any influence with the Cardews?”

“No one has any influence with the Cardews, if you mean the Cardew men.  Why?”

“Because Cardew has got to get out of the mayoralty campaign.  That’s all.”

“That’s a-plenty,” said Pink, grinning.  “Why don’t you go and tell him so?”

“I’m thinking of it.  He hasn’t a chance in the world, but he’ll defeat Hendricks by splitting the vote, and let the other side in.  And you know what that means.”

“I know it,” Pink observed, “but Mr. Cardew doesn’t, and he won’t after you’ve told him.  They’ve put a lot of money in, and once a Cardew has invested in a thing he holds on like death.  Especially the old man.  Wouldn’t wonder he was the fellow who pounded the daylights out of Akers last night,” he added.

Willy Cameron, having carefully filled his pipe, closed the door into the shop, and opened a window.

“Akers?” he inquired.

“Noon edition has it,” Pink said.  “Claims to have been attacked in his rooms by two masked men.  Probably wouldn’t have told it, but the doctor talked.  Looks as though he could wallop six masked men, doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” said Willy Cameron, reflectively.  “Yes; he does, rather.”

He felt more hopeful than he had for days.  Lily on her way home, clear once more of the poisonous atmosphere of Doyle and his associates; Akers temporarily out of the way, perhaps for long enough to let the normal influences of her home life show him to her in a real perspective; and a rather unholy but very human joy that he had given Akers a part of what was coming to him—­all united to cheer him.  He saw Lily going home, and a great wave of tenderness flooded him.  If only they would be tactful and careful, if only they would be understanding and kind.  If they would only be normal and every-day, and accept her as though she had never been away.  These people were so hedged about with conventions and restrictions, they put so much emphasis on the letter and so little on the spirit.  If only—­God, if only they wouldn’t patronize her!