“Hade, I’m through!  Get that?  I’m through!  You can foreclose on my home here, and you can get me sent to prison for that check I was insane enough to raise when I had no way out of the hole.  But I’m through.  It isn’t worth it.  Nothing is worth having to cringe and cheat for.  I’m through cringing to you.  And I’m through cheating the United States Government.  You weren’t content with making me do that.  You tried, to-day, to make me a murderer—­to make me your partner in the death of the man who had saved my life.  When I found that out—­when I learned what you could stoop to and could drag me to,—­I swore to myself to cut free from you, for all time.  Now, go ahead and do your dirtiest to me and to mine.  What I said, goes.  And it goes for my sister, too.  Doesn’t it, dear girl?”

For answer, Claire caught her brother’s big hand in both of hers, and raised it to her lips.  A light of happiness transfigured her face.  Milo pulled away his hand, bashfully, his eyes misting at her wordless praise for his belatedly manly action.

“Good!” he approved, passing his arm about her and drawing her close to him.  “I played the cur once, this evening.  It’s good to know I’ve had enough pluck to do this one white thing, to help make up for it.”

He faced Gavin, head thrown back, giant shoulders squared, eyes alight.

“Mr. Brice,” he said, clearly.  “Through you, I surrender to the United States Government.  I’ll make a signed confession, any time you want it.  I’m your prisoner.”

Gavin shook his head.

“The confession will be of great service, later,” said he, “and, as state’s evidence, it will clear you from any danger of punishment.  But you’re not my prisoner.  Thanks to your promise of a confession.  I have a prisoner, here.  But it is not you.”

“No?” suavely queried Hade, whose everlasting smile had not changed and whose black eyes remained as serene as ever, through the declaration of rebellion on the part of his satellite.  “If Standish is not your prisoner, he’ll be the State of Florida’s prisoner, by this time to-morrow, when I have lodged his raised check with the District Attorney.  Think that over, Standish, my dear friend.  Seven years for forgery is not a joyous thing, even in a Florida prison.  Here, in the community where your family’s name has been honored, it will come extra hard.  And on Claire, here, too.  Mightn’t it be better to think that over, a minute or so, before announcing your virtuous intent?  Mightn’t—­”

“Don’t listen to him, Milo!” cried the girl, seizing Standish’s hand again in an agony of appeal, and smiling encouragingly up into his sweating and irresolute face.  “We’ll go through any disgrace, together.  You and I. And after it’s all over, I’ll give up my whole life to making you happy, and helping you to get on your feet again.”