s now master in the house of his
soul, and had no fear or doubt as to the future or as to his course.

His first duty was to go to Constantine Jopp and speak his regret like a
man. And after that it would be his duty to carry a double debt his life
long for the life saved, for the wrong done. He owed an apology to La
Touche, and he was scarcely aware that the native gentlemanliness in him
had said through his fever of passion over the footlights, "I beg your
pardon." In his heart he felt that he had offered a mean affront to every
person present, to the town where his interests lay, where his heart lay.

Where his heart lay--Molly Mackinder! He knew now that vanity had
something to do, if not all to do, with his violent acts, and though there
suddenly shot through his mind, as he rode back, a savage thrill at the
remembrance of how he had handled the three, it was only a passing
emotion. He was bent on putting himself right with Jopp and with La
Touche. With the former his way was clear; he did not yet see his way as
to La Touche. How would he be able to make the _amende honorable_ to La
Touche?

By-and-by he became somewhat less absorbed and enveloped by the comforting
night. He saw the glimmer of red light afar, and vaguely wondered what it
was. It was in the direction of O'Ryan's Ranch, but he thought nothing of
it, because it burned steadily. It was probably a fire lighted by settlers
trailing to the farther North. While the night wore on he rode as slowly
back to the town as he had galloped from it like a centaur with a
captive.

Again and again Molly Mackinder's face came before him, but he resolutely
shut it out of his thoughts. He felt that he had no right to think of her
until he had "done the right thing" by Jopp and by La Touche. Yet the look
in her face as the curtain came down, it was not that of one indifferent
to him or to what he did. He neared the town half-way between midnight and
morning. Almost unconsciously avoiding the main streets, he rode a
roundabout way toward the little house where Constantine Jopp lived. He
could hear loud noises in the streets, singing, and hoarse shouts. Then
silence came, then shouts, and silence again. It was all quiet as he rode
up to Jopp's house, standing on the outskirts of the town. There was a
bright light in the window of a room.

Jopp, then, was still up. He would not wait till to-morrow. He would do
the right thing now. He would put things straight with his f