been indicted, and was now awaiting trial. Aileen had 
been bringing him news, from time to time, of just how 
she thought her father was feeling toward him. She did 
not get this evidence direct from Butler, of course—he 
was too secretive, in so far as she was concerned, to let her 
know how relentlessly he was engineering Cowperwood's 
final downfall—but from odd bits confided to Owen, who 
had confided them to Callum, who in turn, innocently 
enough, confided them to Aileen. She could see that her 
father was doing something—just what or how much she 
could not make out. It was irritating her greatly. For 
one thing, she had learned in this way of the new district 
attorney elect—his probable attitude—for he was a con- 
stant caller at the Butler house or office, and Owen had 
told Callum that he thought Shannon was going to do 
his best to send Cowperwood "up "—that the old man 
thought he deserved it. Aileen was already bitter 
against her father for this. She felt it was because of 
her relation with Cowperwood, and nothing more. 
In the next place she learned that her father did not 
want Cowperwood to resume in business did not feel 
he deserved to be allowed to. " It would be a God's 
blessing if the community were shut of him," he had said 
to Owen one morning, apropos of some notice in the 
papers of Cowperwood's legal struggles; and Owen had 
asked Callum why he thought the old man was so bitter. 
The two sons could not understand it. Callum had passed 
the query on to Aileen. She saw the point, of course. 
Cowperwood heard all this from her, and more—bits about 
Judge Payderson, the judge who was to try him, who 
was a friend of Butler's—also about the fact that Stener 
might be sent up for the full term of his crime, but that 
he would be pardoned out. Aileen could not learn 
that anything was to be done for Cowperwood, which 
enraged her, for she saw from what Cowperwood told her 
that there was a conspiracy on to " railroad " him, as a 
new term had it, or to make it just as hard for him as