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girl was teaching the man to speak the language of the cultured, and to view life

as people of refinement view it.

She taught him what honor meant among her class, and that it was better to lose

any other possession rather than lose honor. Billy realized that it had been these

lessons that had spurred him on to the mad scheme that was to end now with the

verdict of "Guilty"--he had wished to vindicate his honor. A hard laugh broke from

his lips; but instantly he sobered and his face softened.

It had been for her sake after all, and what mattered it if they did send him to the

gallows? He had not sacrificed his honor--he had done his best to assert it. He

was innocent. They could kill him but they couldn't make him guilty. A thousand

juries pronouncing him so could not make it true that he had killed Schneider.

But it would be hard, after all his hopes, after all the plans he had made to live

square, to SHOW THEM. His eyes still boring through the paper suddenly found

themselves attracted by something in the text before them--a name, Harding.

Billy Byrne shook himself and commenced to read:

The marriage of Barbara, daughter of Anthony Harding, the multimillionaire, to

William Mallory will take place on the twenty-fifth of June.

The article was dated New York. There was more, but Billy did not read it. He

had read enough. It is true that he had urged her to marry Mallory; but now, in

his lonesomeness and friendlessness, he felt almost as though she had been

untrue to him.

"Come along, Byrne," a bailiff interrupted his thoughts, "the jury's reached a

verdict."

The judge was emerging from his chambers as Billy was led into the courtroom.

Presently the jury filed in and took their seats. The foreman handed the clerk a

bit of paper. Even before it was read Billy knew that he had been found guilty. He

did not care any longer, so he told himself. He hoped that the judge would send

him to the gallows. There was nothing more in life for him now anyway. He

wanted to die. But instead he was sentenced to life imprisonment in the

penitentiary at Joliet.

This was infinitely worse than death. Billy Byrne was appalled at the thought of

remaining for life within the grim stone walls of a prison. Once more there swept

over him all the old, unreasoning hatred of the law and all that pertained to it. He

would like to close his steel fingers about the fat neck of the red-faced judge. The

154

The Mucker