looked down at the paper again, and with a sudden, impulsive movement pushed it away from him. "Varge has been caught," he said abruptly.
"Oh, dad!"—it was a quick, hurt little cry from Janet, as she stared at her father.
"Eh? What? Caught!" gasped the little doctor helplessly. He fumbled for his handkerchief, and after two vain efforts to get it out of his pocket finally jerked it forth savagely and began to mop at his face. "Caught, caught, caught!" he snapped out. "Now, how in he—hum'm'm—how in thunder did that happen?"
"As it generally happens sooner or later," said the warden monotonously. He got up from his chair and began to pace the room. "They think they're safe once they're out of sight of the walls and a guard's uniform. I'll admit that personally, not officially, it would have been a relief to me if Varge, once he had started, had shown more sense. They caught him this morning across the border. I sent Willets up to identify him and bring him back."
"Caught him—where?" inquired the little doctor, and the operations with the handkerchief ceased abruptly.
"Across the Canadian line," said the warden.
"Hum!" said the little man, settling comfortably back in his chair again.
Janet crossed the room impulsively to her father's side.
"Oh, dad," she burst out, her voice quivering, "I wish with all my heart he had got away. He shouldn't be here anyway—I'm sure of that. And it's true, as
