The Sentence of the Court by Fred M. White

The thing was done, the boats were burnt, the Rubicon was crossed. There had been a conspiracy to deprive Herepath of the fruits of his toil, and if he was to get nothing he would see to it that the plotters were in no better case. He no longer doubted the existence of the conspiracy. It had been amply proved when he found Daniel Harley in his workshop.

In bitterness of spirit and the heat of the moment he had defied the father of the girl whom he had hoped to make his wife. Evidently the man was a criminal; indeed, his mysterious life in the strange riverside house pointed to that. Some day the police would lay hands on him, and a great scandal would result. What was to become of Enid then? Herepath groaned as he thought of it. In ordinary circumstances it would not have much mattered. His love for Enid was a pure and brilliant flame, and no family disgrace could have dimmed it. Besides, Enid knew little or nothing of what was going on under that mysterious roof. No shadow of crime had touched her. On this score Herepath had never entertained a single doubt.