"Make it for twenty years," he begged.

"Make it for ten," he coaxed, "but, please, promise you won't shoot him." When Van Vorst returned to Captain McCoy, he was smiling, and the butler who followed, bearing a tray and tinkling glasses, was trying not to smile.
"I gave Jimmie your ten dollars," said Van Vorst, "and made it twenty, and he has gone home.

You will be glad to hear that he begged me to spare your life, and that your sentence has been commuted to twenty years in a fortress.

I drink to your good fortune." "No!" protested Captain McCoy, "We will drink to Jimmie!" When Captain McCoy had driven away, and his own car and the golf clubs had again been brought to the steps, Judge Van Vorst once more attempted to depart; but he was again delayed.
Other visitors were arriving.
Up the driveway a touring-car approached, and though it limped on a flat tire, it approached at reckless speed.

The two men in the front seat were white with dust; their faces, masked by automobile glasses, were indistinguishable.