room unobserved and had stood listening in the shadow of the chimney jamb. "I'll never rest till this awful onesided power is broken. You know yourself that it's a monster, daddie. I know you know it, or you'd never help a run—"
He put his finger on his lips, and the girl changed the subject. The underground railroad was a forbidden topic in the^ Ranger household.
"Because Sally Danover knew no better than to become the wife of an unworthy man,—who knew what he was about, though she didn't,—the law declares that all the benefits resulting from the fraudulent transaction must accrue to the villain in the case, and all the penalties must be borne by his victim. What would you do to such a fellow, daddie, if I should marry him?"
John Ranger did not answer, but gazed steadily into the fire, his brow contracted and his thoughts gloomy.
"Sally, cheer up!" cried Jean, shaking the woman by the shoulder. "Daddie's a whole lot better man than he thinks he is. I've seen him tested. You're as good as a nigger, if you are white, and he'll help you."
"You don't know what you 're talking about, my daughter. It's a crime to break the law, and crime must be followed by fitting punishment."
"If you get caught, you get punished," cried Jean, laughing in her father's face. "To break such a law would be an act of heroism for which I should be glad to be arrested .and sent to jail! It would be an act of heroism beside which the defence of the Stars and Stripes would be cowardice!" she cried in a transport of fury.
"Come, Jean," said her father, rising, "we must go to supper. Won't you join us, Mrs. O'Dowd?"
"Food would choke me," said the visitor, bowing herself out.
"Hang the luck!" said the Squire, as the door slammed behind her.
