"Good again!" said the Colonel. "That man's talent for organization is

something marvelous. He wanted me to go out there and engineer that

thing, but I said, No, Dilworthy, I must be on hand here,--both on

Laura's account and the bill's--but you've no trifling genius for

organization yourself, said I--and I was right. You go ahead, said I

-you can fix it--and so he has. But I claim no credit for that--if I

stiffened up his back-bone a little, I simply put him in the way to make

his fight--didn't undertake it myself. He has captured Noble--.

I consider that a splendid piece of diplomacy--Splendid, Sir!"

By and by came another dispatch from New York:

Jury still out. Laura calm and firm as a statue. The report that the

jury have brought her in guilty is false and premature."

"Premature!" gasped Washington, turning white. "Then they all expect

that sort of a verdict, when it comes in."

And so did he; but he had not had courage enough to put it into words.

He had been preparing himself for the worst, but after all his

preparation the bare suggestion of the possibility of such a verdict

struck him cold as death.

The friends grew impatient, now; the telegrams did not come fast enough:

even the lightning could not keep up with their anxieties. They walked

the floor talking disjointedly and listening for the door-bell. Telegram

612

The Gilded Age