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“‘Then you ain’t mad ’cause I brought ’em?’–and he looked at me searchingly from under his dark eyebrows, his lips firmly set.

“‘No, I’m very grateful to you for wanting to give them to me–only I don’t see my way clear to take them.’

“He settled back on the sofa and began twirling his hat with his hand. Then he rose from his seat, a shade of disappointment on his face, and said, slowly:

“‘Well, “Doc,” ain’t there something else I can do for you? Man like you must have something you want–something you can’t get without somebody’s help. Think now–you mightn’t see me again.’

“Instantly I thought of my mother’s watch.

“‘Yes, there is. Somebody came along one night when I was asleep and borrowed my vest hanging over that chair by the window, and my trousers, and my mother’s watch was in the vest pocket. If you could help me get that back you would do me a real service–one I wouldn’t forget.’

“‘What kind of a watch?’

“I described it closely, its inscription, the portrait of my mother in the case, and showed him a copy of her photograph–like the one here. Then I gave him as close a description of the man as I could.

“When I had described the scar on his face he looked at me in surprise. When I added that he had a slight limp, he said, quickly:

“‘Short man–with close-cropped hair–and a swipe across his chin. Lost a toe, and stumbles when he walks. I’ll see what I can do. He ain’t one of our men. He comes from Chicago. He never stays more’n a day or two in any town. Don’t none of ’em know him round here. Leave it to me; may take some time–see you in a day or two’–and he went out.

“I didn’t see him for a month–not until two nights ago. He didn’t ring the bell this time. He came in through the window. I thought the catch was down, but it wasn’t. Funny how quick these fellows can see a thing. As soon as he shut the glass sash behind him he drew the curtains close; then he turned down the gas. All this, mind you, before he had opened his mouth. Then he said:

“‘Anybody here but you?’

“‘No.’

“‘Sure?’

“‘Yee, very sure.’

“He spoke in a husky, rasping voice, like a man who had caught his breath again after a long run.

“He turned his back to the window, slipped his hand in his hip-pocket and pulled out my mother’s watch.

“‘Is that it, “Doc”?’

“The light was pretty low, but I’d have known it in the dark.

“‘Yes, of course it is–‘ and I opened the lid in search of the old lady’s photo. ‘Where did you get it?’

“‘Look again. There ain’t no likeness.’

“‘No, but here are the marks where they scraped it off’–and I held it close to his eyes. ‘Where did you get it?’

“‘Don’t ask no questions, “Doc.” I had some trouble gittin’ next the goods, and maybe it ain’t over yet. I’ll know in the morning. If anybody asks you anything about it, you ain’t lost no watch–see? Last time you seen me I was goin’ West, see–don’t forget that. That’s all, “Doc.” If you’re pleased, I’m satisfied.’

“He held out his hand to say good-by, but I wouldn’t take it. His appearance, the tone of his voice, and his hunted look made me a little nervous.

“‘Sit down. You’ll let me pay you for it, won’t you? Wait until I go back in my bedroom for some money.’

“‘No, “Doc,” you can’t pay me a cent. I’m sorry they got the mother’s picture, but I couldn’t catch up with the goods before. That would have been the best part of it for me. Mothers is scarce now–kind you and me had–dead or alive. You won’t mind if I turn out the gas while I slip out, do you, and you won’t mind either if I ask you to sit still here. Somebody might see you–‘ and he shook my hand and started for the window. As his hand neared the latch I could see in the dim light that his movements were unsteady. Once he stumbled and clutched at the bookcase for support—-

“‘Hold on,’ I said–and I walked rapidly toward him–‘don’t go yet–you are not well.’

“He leaned against the bookcase and put his hand to his side.

“I was alongside of him now, my arm under his, guiding him into a chair.

“‘Are you faint?’

“‘Yes–got a drop of anything, “Doc”? That’s all I want. It ain’t nothing.’

“I opened my closet, took out a bottle of brandy and poured some into a measuring-glass. He drank it, leaned his head for an instant against my arm and, with the help of my hand slipped under his armpit, again struggled to his feet.

“When I withdrew my hand it was covered with blood. It was too dark to see the color, but I knew from the sticky feeling of it just what it was.

“‘My God! man,’ I cried; ‘you are hurt, your shirt’s all bloody. Come back here until I can see what’s the matter.’

“‘No, “Doc”–no! I tell you. It’s stopped bleeding now. It would be tough for you if they pinched me here. Keep away, I tell you–I ain’t got a minute to lose. I didn’t want to hurt him even after he gave me this one in my back, but his girl was wearing it and there warn’t no other way. Git behind them curtains, “Doc.” So! Good-by.’

“And he was gone.”