I must have exclaimed aloud, for the doctor turned his eyes.

“It was he sent for you,” he said, “but he doesn’t need you.  Fortunately, he’s a damned bad shot!”

The boy’s eyes opened wearily; before we could prevent it he spoke.

“I was so tired,” he whispered.  “Always moving me on.  I was so tired!”

Behind me came heavy footsteps, and though with my arm I tried to bar them out, the two detectives pushed into the doorway.  They shoved me to one side and through the passage made for him came the Jew in the sable coat, Mr. Adolph Meyer.

For an instant the little great man stood with wide, owl-like eyes, staring at the face on the pillow.

Then he sank softly to his knees.  In both his hands he caught the hand of the card-sharp.

“Heine!” he begged.  “Don’t you know me?  It is your brother Adolph; your little brother Adolph!”

BILLY AND THE BIG STICK

Had the Wilmot Electric Light people remained content only to make light, had they not, as a by-product, attempted to make money, they need not have left Hayti.

When they flooded with radiance the unpaved streets of Port-au-Prince no one, except the police, who complained that the lights kept them awake, made objection; but when for this illumination the Wilmot Company demanded payment, every one up to President Hamilcar Poussevain was surprised and grieved.  So grieved was President Ham, as he was lovingly designated, that he withdrew the Wilmot concession, surrounded the power-house with his barefooted army, and in a proclamation announced that for the future the furnishing of electric light would be a monopoly of the government.

In Hayti, as soon as it begins to make money, any industry, native or foreign, becomes a monopoly of the government.  The thing works automatically.  It is what in Hayti is understood as haut finance.  The Wilmot people should have known that.  Because they did not know that, they stood to lose what they had sunk in the electric-light plant, and after their departure to New York, which departure was accelerated as far as the wharf by seven generals and twelve privates, they proceeded to lose more money on lobbyists and lawyers who claimed to understand international law; even the law of Hayti.  And lawyers who understand that are high-priced.

The only employee of the Wilmot force who was not escorted to the wharf under guard was Billy Barlow.  He escaped the honor because he was superintendent of the power-house, and President Ham believed that without him the lightning would not strike.  Accordingly by an executive order Billy became an employee of the government.  With this arrangement the Wilmot people were much pleased.  For they trusted Billy, and they knew while in the courts they were fighting to regain their property, he would see no harm came to it.