“You were fond of her, Mr. Mershone?” asked Fogerty, not unsympathetically.

“Yes.  That was why I made such a struggle to get her.”

“It was a mistake, sir.  Provided a woman is won by force or trickery she’s never worth getting.  If she doesn’t care for you it’s better to give her up.”

“I know—­now.”

“You’re a bright fellow, Mershone, a clever fellow.  It’s a pity you couldn’t direct your talents the right way.  They’ll jug you for this.”

“Never mind.  The game of life isn’t worth playing.  I’ve done with it, and the sooner I go to the devil the better.  If only I could be sure Louise was safe I’d toss every care—­and every honest thought—­to the winds, from this moment.”

During the silence that followed Fogerty was thoughtful.  Indeed, his mind dwelt more upon the defeated and desperate man beside him than upon the waif he was searching for.

“What’s been done, Mr. Mershone,” he said, after a time, “can’t be helped now.  The future of every man is always a bigger proposition than his past—­whoever he may be.  With your talents and genius you could yet make of yourself a successful and prosperous man, respected by the community—­if you could get out of this miserable rut that has helped to drag you down.”

“But I can’t,” said the other, despondently.

“You can if you try.  But you’ll have to strike for a place a good way from New York.  Go West, forget your past, and carve out an honest future under a new name and among new associates.  You’re equal to it.”

Mershone shook his head.

“You forget,” he said.  “They’ll give me a jail sentence for this folly, as sure as fate, and that will be the end of me.”

“Not necessarily.  See here, Mershone, it won’t help any of those people to prosecute you.  If the girl escapes with her life no real harm has been done, although you’ve caused a deal of unhappiness, in one way or another.  For my part, I’d like to see you escape, because I’m sure this affair will be a warning to you that will induce you to give up all trickery in the future.  Money wouldn’t bribe me, as you know, but sympathy and good fellowship will.  If you’ll promise to skip right now, and turn over a new leaf, you are free.”

“Where could I go?”

“There’s a town a mile ahead of us; I can see the buildings now and then.  You’ve money, for you offered it to me.  I haven’t any assistants here, I’m all alone on the job.  That talk about four men was only a bluff.  Push me over in the snow and make tracks.  I’ll tell Weldon you’ve escaped, and advise him not to bother you.  It’s very easy.”

Mershone stopped short, seized the detective’s hand and wrung it gratefully.

“You’re a good fellow, Fogerty.  I—­I thank you.  But I can’t do it.  In the first place, I can’t rest in peace until Louise is found, or I know her fate.  Secondly, I’m game to give an account for all my deeds, now that I’ve played the farce out, and lost.  I—­I really haven’t the ambition, Fogerty, to make a new start in life, and try to reform.  What’s the use?”