It was Jennie Arlington’s first trouble, and it was a deep one. She was proud, in her way; that rare pride which shrinks from disgrace as from a pestilence, yet is conjoined with a sterling honesty that clings to the right, even through disgrace.

Her life, so far, had been sunny, and this sudden descent into the shadow of a great cloud was doubly hard to bear. But there was in her nature powers which had never yet been developed, and which rose within her to meet this crisis in her life.

She sat brooding in the library, looking out over the bright June flowers in the garden, yet seeing only shadow there, when her reverie was broken by a servant announcing a visitor.

She turned to see the handsome face and sturdy form of Will Somers. He advanced into the room with his usual air of self-possession, his cap still on his head, and a flavor of the street Arab still about him, despite his good clothes and the lessons in politeness he had received.

“Come out to see you on some bizness for Mr. Leonard,” he said, taking a seat nonchalantly.

“Well, what can I do for you to-day?” she asked.

“I want to talk to you.”

“Make it brief, then,” she replied.

“How about the chap you told me about when I was here afore? Sticking to him yet? I told you to shake him you know, and guess it’s the best you can do.”

“Is that all you have to say?” she asked, impatiently.

“Think I seen him the day I met you in town. Jist you shake him, that’s my advice. Look at me, a handsome, well-built feller, and turned of sixteen. I’ll be in the market after a while, and the gal that gets me is a lucky one.”

“I will bear you in mind, if I run short of a lover,” she replied, with a smile. “I will let you know when I dismiss the present one.”

“What’s the chap’s name, anyhow?” asked Will, twisting round in his chair.

“Suppose I don’t choose to tell his rival?”

“Ain’t ashamed of him, are you?”

“Not at all. His name is John Elkton.”

“What’s that?” cried Will, suddenly, starting as if something had struck him.

“Why, Will,” she replied, in wonder, “what ails you?”

“John Elkton, you said?”

“Certainly.”

“He’s a salesman at White & Bradley’s ain’t he?”

“Yes,” she replied, with a nervous twitch of the fingers.

“Guess he’s out of the market, and the coast’s clear for this young man,” said Will, settling himself back easily in his chair. “That chap’s in quod.”

“In what?” she asked, shaking him in her impatience. “I wish you would say something that could be understood.”

“He’s locked up in jail. Down in Moya. Took up for smuggling out of the custom-house.”

Sick at heart on hearing this sudden confirmation of her worst fears, Jennie staggered back to her chair, seating herself heavily, as if a great weight had been laid upon her shoulders.

Will looked on in unwonted surprise, a faint suspicion struggling through his brain that he had gone too far. A revulsion came upon him as he saw her sink back pale and helpless, in her chair.

“Why, Jennie,” he cried, with a show of emotion, “hope I haven’t hurt your feelin’s? Didn’t calculate that you keered that much for the man. Don’t be so worried. Guess he’ll come out all right.”

“Is it really so?” she asked, in a low, frightened tone. “Is he really in prison?”

“Yes,” said Will. “But he won’t stay there, so don’t you worry. We’ll get him out. I’ll go bail for him myself.”

She smiled sadly at Will’s idea of going bail.

“Now hold your head up, Jennie,” said Will, putting his arm round her with a movement of boyish sympathy. “It’s a pity I hadn’t better sense; a feller that’s been around like me. But I’ve been kicked up among boys. Dunno much about gals.”

“There, Will, I do not blame you,” she said, rising with a proud gesture, as if she had thrown off all weakness. “He is innocent. I know that. It is not possible that innocence can suffer the penalty of guilt.”

“I know he is, and I’ll clear him. Just leave it to me.”

“Why, how will you do that?” she doubtfully asked.

“Think I’ve got my eye on the chap that’s been goin’ through Mr. Leonard. Got the trap set. Think I’ll catch an old fox in a tight trap.”

“Is that so, Will?” Miss Arlington eagerly asked. “Whom do you suspect?”

“Never mind now,” was Will’s mysterious answer. “There’s more than one in it. Been spotting them for some time. Bet I bring them up with a half-hitch.”

“Does Mr. Leonard know of your suspicions?”

“Not he. Nor nobody else ’cept Willful Will. That’s not the way I carry on bizness. When I take a job in hand I don’t want no pards. I know they’ve got a notion that I’m mixed in it myself, and I know who set up that job. If I don’t prove him a liar, it’s queer.”

“You, Will? They don’t suspect you of being leagued with the robbers?”

“Think they do, but they’ve got the wrong cow by the horns. Don’t you worry about John Elkton. There won’t no harm come to him. Anyhow, I’m goin’ to take him out of jail, or it’ll be queer.”

“I hope you may be able,” she said, seriously. Will’s confident manner gave her hope despite her better judgment.

“I never said a thing I didn’t do, and I won’t go back on this,” said Will, with an earnest and assured air that gave her new hope.

The boy was energetic, honest and shrewd, and his early life might have given him much experience of the criminal classes. He might then not be talking without warrant, and she felt herself leaning with great faith upon his promise.

“Guess I’d better be going now,” said Will. “My time’s about up.”

In ten minutes more, his errand completed, he was on his way back to the store.