"I have that honor, Mr. Prisident. I am willing to back Mr. McGaw
to the extent of me humble possissions, which are ample, I trust,
for the purposes of this contract"--looking around with an air of
entire confidence.
"Gentlemen, are you ready for the question?" asked the president.
At this instant there was a slight commotion at the end of the
hall. Half a dozen men nearest the door left their seats and
crowded to the top of the staircase. Then came a voice outside:
"Fall back; don't block up the door! Get back there!" The
excitement was so great that the proceedings of the board were
stopped.
The throng parted, The men near the table stood still. An ominous
silence suddenly prevailed. Daniel McGaw twisted his head, turned
ghastly white, and would have fallen from his chair but for
Dempsey.
Advancing through the door with slow, measured tread, her long
cloak reaching to her feet; erect, calm, fearless; her face like
chalk; her lips compressed, stifling the agony of every step; her
eyes deep sunken, black-rimmed, burning like coals; her brow bound
with a blood-stained handkerchief that barely hid the bandages
beneath, came Tom.
The deathly hush was unbroken. The men fell back with white,
scared faces to let her pass. McGaw cowered in his chair.
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