g down
across the firm chin, and the pain-distorted lips. In his eyes was a
hurt agony of reproach, as if the knife of a friend had been
unexpectedly thrust into his heart. Dick's arm, tensed by the insane
anger of his mind, was drawn back to deal another blow, and seemed to
stop half-way, impotent to strike that defenseless face before him.

"Why don't you hit again, boy? I'll not strike back! I have loved you
too much for that!"

There was a world of misery and reproach in the quiet voice of the
giant, whose tremendous physical power was such that he could have
caught the younger man's arm, and with one wrench twisted it to
splintered bone. Before its echoes had died away another voice broke
in, suffused with anguish, the shadows waving on the walls of gray
rock twisted, and Joan's hands were on his arm.

"Dick! Dick! Are you mad? Do you know what you are doing?"

He shook her hands from his arm, reeled against the wall, and raised
his forearm across his eyes, and brushed it across, as if dazed and
blinded by a rush of blood which he would sweep away. He had not
noticed that in that staggering progress he had fallen full against a
candlestick, and that it fell to the floor and lay there between them,
with its flame slowly increasing as it formed a pool of grease. For
the first time since he had spoken, the huge miner moved. He stepped
forward, and ground the flame underfoot.

"There might be a stray cap around here somewhere," he said.

His voice appeared to rouse the younger man, and bring him to himself.
He stepped forward, with his hands behind him and his face still set,
wild and drawn, and said brokenly: "Bill! Bill! Strike back! Do
something! Old friend!"

"I cain't," came the reply, in a helpless monotone. "You know if it
were any other man I'd kill him! But you don't understand yet, and--"

"I made him bring me here," Joan said, coming closer, until the
shadows of the three were almost together. Her voice had a strange
hopelessness in it, and yet a calm firmness. "He came to talk it over
with me, on your account. Pleading your cause--begging me that, no
matter what happened, I should not change my attitude toward you.
Toward you, I say! He said your sense of honesty and loyalty to Sloan
would drive you to demanding restitution even though it broke your
heart. He said he loved you more than anything on earth, and begged me
to help him find some way to spare--not me, or my father--but you!"

Dick trie