to awaken memory, in the other's
appearance or in his voice, was now instantly supplied as the engineer
saw him take the fine-cut, roll a cigarette, light it and afterward
thrust it into the left corner of his mouth. The memories of the old
convict were flooded with light.

"Enough of this!" cried he. "You are Don Adolfo Moreno!"

"That's right, I'm the man!"

"You were a conductor on the Asturias line when I worked on the one
running to Bilbao. Don't you remember me? Amadeo Zureda?"

"Yes, indeed!"

The two men embraced each other.

"Why, I used to say 'thee' and 'thou' to you!" cried Don Adolfo.

"Yes, yes, I remember that, too. I remember everything, now. We were
good friends once, eh? Well, time seems to have made some pretty big
changes in both of us."

When the joy of the first moments of meeting had been somewhat allayed,
the former conductor and the old engineer grew sad as they recalled the
many bitter experiences life had dealt them.

"I've already heard of your misfortune," said Don Adolfo, "and I was
mighty sorry to hear about it. Sometimes a youthful moment of madness,
that lasts only a minute, will cost a man his whole future. Why did you
do it?"

Stolidly Zureda answered:

"Oh, it was a quarrel over cards."

"Yes, that's so; they told me about it."

Amadeo breathed easy. The conductor knew nothing; and it seemed probable
that many others should be as ignorant as he about what had driven him
to kill Manolo. Don Adolfo asked:

"Where have you been?"

"At Ceuta."

"A long time?"

"Twenty years and some months."

"The deuce! You've just come from down there?"

"Yes, sir."

"It's evident to me," continued Don Adolfo, "you've suffered a great
deal more than I have; but you mustn't think I have been lucky, either.
Life is a wild animal that drags down every one who tries to grapple
with it, and yet people keep right on struggling. I'm a widower. My poor
wife has been dust for nearly fifteen years. The eldest of my three
daughters got married, and both the others died. Now I'm on a pension
and live at Ecks with a sister-in-law, the widow of my brother Juan. I
don't think you remember him."

Little by little, and with many beatings about the bush, because
confidence is a timid quality which soon takes flight from those
scourged by misfortune, the ex-convict told his plans. He hoped to
establish himself at Ecks, with his wife. He had brought about two
thousand pesetas from prison, with