THE TRAP For more than a month--or from a few days following the night on which she had seen her father talking with Dave Singleton--Ruth Hamlin had been aware that her parent was acting strangely.

There had been an interval--directly after that night when he had told her about his talk with Lawler, when Lawler had offered to help him to regain his place among men--that Hamlin had seemed to "go straight," as he had promised.
During that interval he had taken her into his confidence many times, to discuss with her the new prospects that the future seemed to offer, and to renew his assurances to her.

It had seemed, then, that there was hope for him.
Of late, though, a change had come over him.

He no longer confided in her; his eyes were beginning to take on again the expression of guilt she had seen in them in the old days; his glances at her were no longer direct, but furtive, as though he feared she might learn something of his actions should she meet his gaze.
In the old days Ruth had passively endured the shame that Hamlin's crimes had brought upon her.

They had been so unexpected that they had stunned her--they had been so miserably mean that she had not dared to take anyone into her confidence.
However, the days of passive endurance were over.