t to do. Your nature's telling you to
get around and help your mother out. My nature says get busy and see
to things up north. Well, a landslide, or a blizzard, or any old thing
might put me out of business on the way. A storm, or fire might cost
you your life right here in this Fort. It's the chances of life. And
it's the nature of us makes us take the chances. We just got to work
on the way we see, and we can't see diff'rent--at will. If we could
see diff'rent at will, there's a whole heap I'd have changed in my
life. There's many things I'd never have done, and many things I
figger to do wouldn't be done. But I see the way I was born, and I
don't regret a thing--not a thing--except the shape Providence made me.
I'm going to live--not die--a rich man, doing the things I fancy, if
Life don't figger to put me out of business. And I don't care a curse
what it costs. It's how I'm born, and it's the nature of me demands
these things. I'm going to do all I've set my mind to do, and I'll do
it with my last kick, if necessary. Do you understand me? That's why
I'm glad of those secrets we're talking of. That's why I'll work to
the last to hold 'em. That's why I don't mean to let things stand in
my way that can be shifted. That's why I'm asking you to help us get
busy. Our interests I guess are your interests."

It was another revelation of the man such as Jessie had had at
intervals before, and which had somehow contrived to tacitly antagonize
her. Her nature was rebelling against the material passion of this
man. There was something ruthlessly sordid underlying all he said.

"I'm glad it doesn't need those feelings to make me want to help my
mother," she said quietly. "Interests? Say, interests of that sort
don't matter a thing for me. Thought of them won't put an ounce more
into the work I'll do to help--my mother. But she counts, and what you
said about her is all you need say. The other talk--is just talk."

"Is it?" The man had risen from his chair. Jessie surveyed him with
cool measuring eyes. His podgy figure was almost ludicrous in her
eyes. His round, fleshy face became almost contemptible. But not
quite. He was part of her life, and then those eyes, so strange, so
baffling. So alive with an intelligence which at times almost
overwhelmed her.

"It isn't just talk, Jessie," he said approaching her, till he, too,
stood in the full light of the window. "Maybe you don't know it, but
y