looked wretched. The redness and humidity of his eyes showed want
of sleep, and the relaxed muscles of his face exhaustion from
weariness and suffering. He drew the person with whom I had been
talking aside, and continued an earnest conversation with him for
many minutes--often gesticulating violently. I could see his face,
though I heard nothing of what he said. The play of his features
was painful to look upon, for every changing muscle showed a new
phase of mental suffering.

"Try and see him, will you not?" he said, as he turned, at length,
to leave the office.

"I will go there immediately," was answered.

"Bring him home, if possible."

"My very best efforts shall be made."

Judge Hammond bowed and went out hurriedly.

"Do you know the number of the room occupied by the man Green?"
asked the gentleman, as soon as his visitor had retired.

"Yes. It is No. 11."

"Willy has not been home since last night. His father, at this
late day, suspects Green to be a gambler. The truth flashed upon
him only yesterday; and this, added to his other sources of
trouble, is driving him, so he says, almost mad. As a friend, he
wishes me to go to the 'Sickle and Sheaf,' and try and find Willy.