crazy. He told me of the girl he married and worshipped, and of the man
who broke up his home. Once more I saw that flitting tiger-look appear
on his face and vanish immediately. He told me of his wild days.

"I was always a fighter, an' I never knew what fear meant. I never saw
the man that could beat me in a rough-an'-tumble scrap. I was uncommon
husky an' as quick as a cat, but it was my fierceness that won out for
me. Get a man down an' give him the leather. I've kicked a man's face to
a jelly. It was kick, bite an' gouge in them days--anything went.

"Yes, I never knew fear. I've gone up unarmed to a man I knew was heeled
to shoot me on sight, an' I've dared him to do it. Just by the power of
the eye I've made him take water. He thought I had a gun an' could draw
quicker'n him. Then, as the drink got hold of me, I got worse and worse.
Time was when I would have robbed a bank an' shot the man that tried to
stop me. Glory to God! I've seen the evil of my ways."

"Are you sure you'll never backslide?" I asked.

"Never! I'm born again. I don't smoke, drink or gamble, an' I'm as happy
as the day's long. There was the drink. I would go on the water-wagon
for three months at a stretch, but day and night, wherever I went, the
glass of whisky was there right between my eyes. Sooner or later it got
the better of me. Then one night I went half-sober into a Gospel Hall.
The glass was there, an' I was in agony tryin' to resist it. The speaker
was callin' sinners to come forward. I thought I'd try the thing anyway,
so I went to the penitents' bench. When I got up the glass was gone. Of
course it came back, but I got rid of it again in the same way. Well, I
had many a struggle an' many a defeat, but in the end I won. It's a
divine miracle."

I wish I could paint or act the man for you. Words cannot express his
curious character. I came to have a great fondness for him, and
certainly owed him a huge debt of gratitude.

One day I was paying my usual visit to the Post Office, when some one
gripped me by the arm.

"Hullo, Scotty! By all that's wonderful. I was just going to mail you a
letter."

It was the Prodigal, very well dressed and spruce-looking.

"Say, I'm so tickled I got you; we're going to start in two days."

"Start! Where?" I asked.

"Why, for the Golden North, for the land of the Midnight Sun, for the
treasure-troves of the Klondike Valley."

"You maybe," I said soberly; "but I can't."

"Yes you can, and