Will telegraph from Tompkinsville." And then, with a smile of triumph, Dennis McNerney locked the door.
He placed the half-fainting woman in a chair before the notary and began his inquisition.
The look of utter despair in Leah Einstein's face softened under the velvety, wooing voice of the man who had boldly abducted her.
In the whispered conference in the corner, he had skilfully played upon that inexhaustible mother's love which is the one undiminished treasure of a worn-out world.
The poor wretch at bay little dreamed that cobbler Mulholland was standing before her, and her tortured heart had forgotten all the dangers of the cablegram and the tell-tale registered letter.

"If you answer all my questions," kindly said McNerney, "and make a clean breast of it, you may save your boy.

Do you want to do that young man's life?
He stands next to the electric chair now, for the murder of Mr.

Randall Clayton!" The heart-stricken mother was on her knees in a moment.
"Kill me! Do anything you wish.

But spare him! He is innocent! He knows nothing!" "Let us see what you know, then!" grimly answered McNerney.