Robert was the son of a murderer.

Six men had stamped that upon him in the basement of the courthouse that night.

His funds were low, growing lower every day, and there was little possibility of rehabilitating them until the trial of Harry should come, and Fate should be kind enough to order an acquittal, releasing the products from escrow.

In case of a conviction, Fairchild could see only disaster.

True, the optimistic Farrell had spoken of a Supreme Court reversal of any verdict against his partner, but that would avail little as far as the mine was concerned.