She sat buried in thought till suddenly starting up she consulted
a time table, then rang hurriedly for her maid. She was ready in thirty
minutes, and summoning her young son, was soon enroute for the capital.
Arriving at ten o'clock she called a carriage and sped away to new
northwest quarter of the city. By midnight she had seen both
representatives and thoroughly enlisted their services. She gave no
reason for her intercession, nor was it necessary. It was enough that
she deemed it a case for intervention. Next morning the two statesmen
had an interview with the President, and by the hardest, for the mass
of evidence against young Garrett was overwhelming, got a stay of
proceedings till the case could be further investigated.

Well-nigh exhausted from the mental and bodily strain, Jessie arrived
at her home unfit for anything but rest. Then she answered her enemy's
letter. Did she reproach him with his life-long injustice? Did she
demand the old home in exchange for the service she had rendered? Or
at least the privilege of buying it? She merely wrote;--

"I have been to Washington and secured a reprieve pending further
sifting of evidence."

Ben Garrett was saved and the close view of the gallows sobered him at
last. He married the daughter of a Texas ranchman and Jessie heard of
him no more.

* * * * *

Five years passed away when on a gloomy afternoon in the autumn, Jessie
Forrester, now a woman of thirty, and wearing her years and honors well,
was sitting at her desk in an elegant sanctum, absorbed in the fate of