such a good beginning. But Mr. Lawson had a feeling of enmity towards his contemporaries in the far west. He could ill repress the angry feelings that arose when the scheme presented itself in all its horrid reality.

"What ground for bringing the gang to the scratch and making a startling expose of our legal brethren; yes, nice brethren too."

No wonder that Mr. Lawson felt ashamed of his fraternity. If the shades of Coke and Blackstone could only arise--what a reckoning would be made. What a scene--aye, one that would need a Milton to describe.

Thoughts akin to these were passing through the young lawyer's mind when he suddenly recalled the cause. The heavy brows are contracted and a scowl appears. "The wicked flourish for a season and so may you, my happy friends, but your happiness is not of the enduring kind." Another scowl. "But if he succeeds I am miserable," muttered Phillip Lawson, his countenance betraying deep agitation. "But I will not suffer her to become a sacrifice. Heaven forbid."

There was determination in the tone and in the gesture which accompanied it.

There was indeed to be a struggle between right and wrong, and a bitter struggle, too, but an All-Wise Providence rules over all, and disposes of events in an inscrutable order, and in the way He foreordains for His own glory.

It is necessary to explain how matters stood between Hubert Tracy and the Winnipeg solicitor.

The latter had entered heartily into the affair and was looking forward to the big bonanza that he would gain. But some weeks passed and hearing nothing further Mr. Sharpley resolved to test the matter. Receiving no answer to the first letter he despatched a second and was surprised to receive it re-addressed to himself. What did it mean? Had Mr. Lawson removed to another field or had Hubert Tracy played false?

The solicitor then wrote an acquaintance making some modest inquiries concerning Mr. Lawson's whereabouts and was further surprised to find that he was still in St. John, also that he was prospering in the profession and would one day rank as one of the leading practitioners there.

Mr. Sharpley then directed his interrogations across the sea and much chagrined charged Mr. Tracy with duplicity. But it was the latter who felt the most non-plussed. He cursed Phillip Lawson from the bottom of his heart and hoped that he might live to crush him in the dust.

"Fool that I was to listen to his palaver!" cried he, "when I could have contrived some means to silence him most effectually. It is just what I deserve. He will dog my steps to the bitter end if I cannot accomplish my work very soon."

It was while Hubert Tracy was being thus humiliated that he received a summons from Mrs. Montague Arnold and hailed it as an omen of success.

The interview was lengthy and boded no good to Marguerite.

"Depend upon me, Hubert," cried the heartless young matron as she graciously extended the tips of her taper fingers and smiled her most enchanting smile which the young gallant more than graciously acknowledged as he sprang into the cab awaiting him at the end of the court-yard.

A few moments later he was at the club, and surrounded by a host of the most abandoned profligates he joined in the ribaldry and obscene jests with a zeal that betrayed the utter depravity of his habits, and also shewed that he had taken a headlong plunge into the vortex and must soon become a hopeless wreck. And yet a short time ago, so fair to look upon, Hubert Tracy had been indeed prepossessing in appearance. His neat, well built figure, graceful but manly carriage, agreeable address and fine manners gave him a significant tone and made him much sought after in society.

There was even a pleasing expression in the young man's face that was really attractive. His chestnut locks of silken hair clustering in luxuriant ringlets were indeed the envy of the many less favored youth, while the hazel dreamy eyes, soft and expressive as a woman's, seemed to suggest that they had once been the pride of an indulgent mother and kind friends.

"Zounds, Tracy my fellow, you're going all to sticks! What the devil is up? Why, you look as if you had been trailed through seven cities--got the blues,--eh?"

"Worse than that, Turpin. I'm in a fair way for the Old Bailey."

"The deuce you are!" exclaimed the latter, who owing to several sharp feats performed upon some members of the club, was dubbed Turpin.

Mr. Turpin was a lucky kind of mortal who had a propensity for living on the funds of his more fortunate friends and always kept an eye to Mr. Tracy.

The latter was lavish in expenditure and thought it a streak of luck to have an individual like Turpin to cater to his caprice and assist in making his every day life free from remorse or anything approaching to it.

"'Jordan is a hard road to travel,' eh Dick?" said Hubert Tracy as he raised the cocktail to view and stood gazing upon it, then swallowing the contents, as if anxious to get through the job, exclaimed, "Heavens Dick, I wish that were the last drink on this side of Jordan," and after a desperate effort to appear at ease the young man left his rollicking set and sought his apartments in Regent Square.

CHAPTER XXV.

MR. SPRIGGINS INTERVIEWS MR. VERNE.

While Mr. Verne sat in his office in Water street, busy as usual on his exchanges, etc, an individual was making his way thither at a rapid gait, which, in fact, bore more closely to business than grace.

The individual was Mr. Spriggins of Mill Crossing. Any one keeping close behind the said gentleman might have heard the following soliloquy.

"Well, sir, I'm deuced glad I didn't let on to Melindy, for like all wimen she'd be a peekin' to see what it was. It's terrible queer that not one of 'em is better than another. Still we can't get along without 'em, nohow."

Here Mr. Spriggins emphasized the remark by a shrug of his herculean shoulders, and allowed himself to think what a blank this world would be without Melindy.

"Wal, I reckon them bisness fellars have so many papers, round that its 'tarnal queer they don't loose money, but ten to one this 'ere thing don't amount to a goose egg."

Mr. Spriggins had now gained the office, and with smiling countenance inquired for Mr. Verne.

A genial "come in" from the inner office inspired our friend with additional confidence.

Mr. Verne bowed in a respectful manner, and taking off his gold-rimmed spectacles motioned the young man to a seat.

"Good morning, sir," said the latter, feeling somewhat embarrassed as how to begin.

"It is fine weather, indeed," returned Mr. Verne, pleasantly.

"Its no use delayin'," thought Moses, "I'll make a bold dash," and jumping up from his seat, exclaimed, "You're Mister Verne that lives in the big house on that high bank up there by the square?"

"Yes, sir," said the latter, respectfully.

"Well, sir, did you ever see this 'ere piece of writin' afore, I picked it up near your house, and supposin' it were your'n I brought it here."

Mr. Spriggins placed the document in Mr. Verne's hand, and the latter glanced at it carelessly at first, and was about to return it to his visitor, when his eye fell upon the following:

"We can make him appear so guilty that all the laws under heaven could not clear him. Two thousand dollars would be a sum sufficient to entrap him. If he is as trusting as you say, the easier will be the job to do it. At any rate, Connors can finish what I undertake-- that is the silencing forever of that law sprig."

"Just be seated for a few minutes, sir," said Mr. Verne. "I think this is to me a very important document."

Mr. Spriggins was now quite at home. He took in the surroundings with an air of interest, and became on terms of intimacy with the handsome spaniel that lay near him.

Mr. Verne's hand trembled violently as he re-read the letter. He was deeply agitated, but fortunately the fact escaped Mr. Spriggins' notice.

"I am deeply indebted to you, sir," said Mr. Verne, addressing his visitor. "I trust some day I shall be able to repay you."

There was an earnestness in the tones and also a look of gratitude that made Mr. Spriggins feel a sudden sensation in his throat--a suffocation which made it impossible to reply--the big heart was full to overflowing.

"This is an honest creature," thought Mr. Verne as he pretended not to observe his benefactor's emotion.

Mr. Spriggins rose to go when suddenly Mr. Verne exclaimed "this is