m's soul.

"If you can show me it's worth while----"

The fingers tightened their grip in silence.

"Just give me a chance, Doc," he said at last, "and I'll show you! I
ain't never had a chance to really know what was right and what was
wrong. If I'd a lived here with my old mother she'd have told me. You
know what it is to be a stray dog on the streets of New York? Even then,
I'd have kept straight if I hadn't been robbed by a lawyer and his
pal. I didn't know what I was doin' till that night here in this
cabin--honest to God, I didn't----"

He paused for breath and a tear stole down his cheek. He fought for
control of his emotions and went on in low tones.

"I didn't know--till I saw my old mother creepin' on me in the shadows
with that big knife gleamin' in her hand! I tried to stop her and I
couldn't. I tried to yell and strangled with blood. I saw the flames of
hell in her eyes and I had kindled them there--God! I never knew until
that minute! I'm broken and bruised lyin' on the rocks now in the
lowest pit---- Give me your hand, Doc! You're my only friend--I'm goin'
straight from now on--so help me God!"

He paused again for breath and sought the actor's eyes.

"You'll stand by me, won't you?"

A friendly grip closed on the trembling fingers.

"Yes--I'll help you--if I can."

CHAPTER XXV. THE MOTHER

Mary was resting in the chair beneath the southern windows of the
sun-parlor of the Doctor's bungalow. He had built his home of logs
cut from the mountainside. Its rooms were supplied with every modern
convenience and comfort. Clear spring water from the cliff above poured
into the cypress tank constructed beneath the roof. An overflow pipe
sent a sparkling, bubbling and laughing through the lawn, refreshing the
wild flowers planted along its edges.

The view from the window looking south was one of ravishing beauty and
endless charm. Perched on a rising spur of the Black Mountain the house
commanded a view of the long valley of the Swannanoa opening at
the lower end into the wide, sunlit sweep of the lower hills around
Asheville. Upward the balsam-crowned peaks towered among the clouds and
stars.

No two hours of the day were just alike. Sometimes the sun was raining
showers of diamonds on the trembling tree-tops of the valleys while the
blackest storm clouds hung in ominous menace around Mount Mitchell and
the Cat-tail. Sometimes it was raining in the valley--the rain cloud a
level sheet of gra