frantic
gesture toward the darkest corner of the place, "It's there," he cried
in a voice scarcely above a whisper, then hid his eyes and moaned. At
the sight, the big man's face softened.

"Lad, lad, ye're in trouble. I saved your body as it hung over the
cliff--and the Lord only knows how ye were saved. I took ye home and
laid ye in my own bunk,--and looked on your face--and there my heart
cried on the Lord for the first time in many years. I had forsworn the
company of men, and of all women,--and the faith of my fathers had
died in me,--but there, as I looked on your face--the lost years came
back. And now--ye're only Harry King. Only Harry King."

"That's all." The young man's lips set tightly and the cords of his
neck stood out. Nothing was lost to the eyes that watched him so
intently.

"I had a son--once. I held him in my arms--for an hour--and then left
him forever. You have a face that reminds me of one--one I hated--and
it minds me of one I--I--loved,--of one I loved better than I loved
life."

Then Harry King turned and gazed in the big man's eyes, and as he
gazed, the withdrawn, inward look left his own. He still sat clasping
his knees. "I can more easily tell you what I have done than I can
tell you my name. I have sworn never to utter it again." He was
weeping, but he hid his tears for very shame of them.

The older man shook his head. "I've known sorrow, boy, but the lesson
of it, never. Men say there is a thing to be learned from sorrow, but
to me it has brought only rebellion and bitterness. So I've missed
the good of it because it came upon me through arrogance and
injustice--not my own. So now I say to you--if it was at the
expense of your soul I saved your life, it were better I had let
you go down. Lad,--you've brought me a softness,--it's like what a
man feels for a woman. I'm glad it's come back to me. It is good to
feel. I'd make a son of you,--but--for the truth's sake tell me a bit
more."

"I had a friend and I killed him. I was angry and killed him. I have
left my name in his grave." Harry King rose and walked away and stood
shivering in the entrance of the shed. Then he came back and spoke
humbly. "Do with me what you will, but call me Harry King. I have
nothing on earth but the clothes on my body, and they are in rags. If
you have work for me to do, let me do it, in mercy. If not, let me go
back to the plains and die there."

"How long ago was this?"

"More--more than two years a