him, but that he could go or not as he chose, and then he said he would go."
The warden's chair squeaked suddenly, as he swerved a little sideways.
"I wonder why he wants to go," he said, with a perplexed frown.
"I was fool enough to ask him," confessed the little doctor, with a grimace. "Wasted breath! That's what I'd like to know myself. I've about lived over in Berley Falls since the other night—you know what I've done—not much—not enough to make us turn up our noses at any straw that blows our way—that story of Mart Robson's is rather interesting—interesting enough to make me especially anxious to find out Varge's reason for this—if I can. It may not mean anything, but I'd like to find out—if I can. I'll drive him over in my buggy—what? As far as his trying to get away is concerned, it would be safe enough to send him over alone."
"Anything," said the warden, rising abruptly from his chair, and his voice caught a little. "Anything, Kreelmar. I—I think her heart is breaking."
"You might send her away for a while," advised the doctor, a little helplessly.
"She won't go"—Warden Rand shook his head wearily.
"No," said Doctor Kreelmar, with sudden and suspicious gruffness. "No; I suppose she won't." He pressed the warden's shoulder sympathetically, then wheeled around and walked quickly to the door. At the threshold he halted for an instant. "You can send Seven-seventy-seven out to the buggy," he called back. "I'll be ready in ten minutes,"
