The paper reached Jeff at his rooms in the morning. He had lately
taken the apartments formerly occupied by his cousin, James moving
to Mrs. Anderson's until after the election. The exchange had been
made at the suggestion of the editor, who gave as a reason that he
wanted to be close to his work until the winter was past. It
happened that James was just now very glad to get a cheaper place.
He was very short of funds and until after the election had no
time for social functions. All he needed with a room was to sleep
in it.
Jeff was still reading the story from Shelby when his cousin came
in hurriedly. James was excited and very white.
"My God, Jeff! It's come at last. I knew it would ruin me some
day," the lawyer cried, after he had carefully closed the door of
the bedroom.
"It won't ruin you, James. Your name isn't mentioned yet. Perhaps
it may not be. It can't hurt you, even if it is."
"I tell you it will ruin me both socially and politically. Once it
gets out nobody will trust me. I'll be the son of a thief," James
insisted wildly.
"You're the son of a man who made a slip and has paid for it,"
answered Jeff steadily. "Don't let your ideas get warped.
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