s I'm saying:--"

"But--"

Bull flung his cigar away with vicious force.

"Let me say this thing out," he went on. "There's a man in the forest I
know, every jack knows. He's a feller who sort of lives in the twilight.
You see, he sort of comes and goes; and no one knows a thing about him,
except he haunts the forests like a shadow. Well, he's settin' the
notion you feel into practice--in a way. He's out for the boys. To help
'em, physically, spiritually, the whole time. They love him. We all love
him to death. Well, ask him how far he gets. Maybe he'd tell you, and I
guess his story 'ud break the heart of a stone image. He'll tell
you--and he speaks the truth--there isn't a thing to be done but heal
'em, and feed 'em, and just help 'em how you can. The rest's a dream.
You see, these jacks come from nowhere particular. They take to the
forests because it's far off; and it's dark, and covers most things up.
And they go nowhere particular, except it's to the hell waiting on most
of us if we don't live life the way that's intended for us. No. Quit
worrying for the forest-jack. Maybe life's going to hand you all sorts
of queer feelings as you go along. And the good heart that sees
suffering and injustice is going to ache mighty bad. The forest wasn't
built for daylight, and the folks living there don't fancy it. And there
isn't a broom big enough in the world to clean up the muck you'll find
there."

"You're talking of Father Adam?"

Nancy's interest had redoubled. It had instantly centred itself on the
man she had met in the Shagaunty forests. The lumber-jacks were
forgotten.

"Yes." Bull nodded. "Do you know him?" There was eagerness in his
question.

"I met him on the Shagaunty."

The man had produced a fresh cigar. But the renewed heavy rolling of the
vessel delayed its lighting. Nancy gazed out to sea in some concern.

"It's getting worse," she said.

Bull struck a match and covered it with both hands.

"It seems that way," he replied indifferently. Then after a moment he
looked up. His cigar was alight. "He's a great fellow--Father Adam," he
said reflectively.

"He's just--splendid."

The girl's enthusiasm told Bull something of the thing he wanted to
know.

"Yes," he said. "He's the best man I know. The world doesn't mean a
thing to him. Why he's there I don't know, and I guess it's not my
business anyway. But if God's mercy's to be handed to any human creature
it seems to me it won't come amiss--