"
Keith stepped forward, and put a roll of notes on the table.
"Now look here, Larry. I've read the police court proceedings. There's
nothing in that. Out of prison, or in prison for a few weeks, it's
all the same to a night-bird of that sort. Dismiss it from your
mind--there's not nearly enough evidence to convict. This gives you your
chance. Take it like a man, and make a new life for yourself."
Laurence smiled; but the smile had a touch of madness and a touch of
malice. He took up the notes.
"Clear out, and save the honour of brother Keith. Put them back in your
pocket, Keith, or I'll put them in the fire. Come, take them!" And,
crossing to the fire, he held them to the bars. "Take them, or in they
go!"
Keith took back the notes.
"I've still got some kind of honour, Keith; if I clear out I shall have
none, not the rag of any, left. It may be worth more to me than that--I
can't tell yet--I can't tell." There was a long silence before Keith
answered. "I tell you you're mistaken; no jury will convict. If they
did, a judge would never hang on it. A ghoul who can rob a dead body
ought to be in prison. What he did is worse than what you did, if you
come to that!" Laurence lifted his face.
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