a young
fellow in Lincoln, Mr. Kendall,--got a splendid wife, and a little baby,
one of the nicest women in the world, and thinks the world of him, and
he goes it with the boys as if he was one of 'em. He never goes home,
though, unless he is sober enough to keep himself straight; but I've
seen him bowling full many a time. Wine, women, and song, you know, and
all that; it may be well enough for us young bloods, but in a fellow of
his circumstances I say it's wrong, damn it! and he oughtn't to do it.'

"Now, I had told Phil that Grace was well and fairly happy. I had
thought it but just to sink my opinion and give Grace's own account of
herself and deliver her simple message without comment. 'Give Phil my
love,' she had said as I left her the night before I came away.

"'And how does this Herbert's wife take all this?' asked Phil of
Wayland.

"'Oh, she doesn't know all, I suppose. If she did, it would probably
kill her. My brother's wife says that if it were not for her child she
doesn't believe Mrs. Herbert would live very long, as it is.'

"'Her trouble is common talk, then?' observed Phil, sipping his wine and
avoiding my eyes.

"'Why, yes, to a certain extent; though she doesn't parade it, by any
means. In fact, she lives very much alone; no one ever sees her, hardly,
but George here, who is an old friend, you know. Maybe you used to know
her,' he added suddenly, coming to himself a little. 'Well, if you did,'
he went on, as Phil did not answer, 'you wouldn't know her now, they
say, for the lively, careless girl she was five or six years ago.' And
then he began to talk about the condition of the Chinese in Denver, and
how he had that morning seen one of them kicked off the sidewalk without
having given the least provocation.

"Phil said nothing further about the Herberts all evening, but just
before we separated for the night he asked me if I could let him have
some money. I unsuspectingly thanked my stars that I could, and told him
so.

"'Well, then,' he declared, 'I am going back to Lincoln with you
to-morrow.' And, in spite of all I could say, he did. He had his beard
shaved off, bought himself some civilized clothes, and made his
appearance with me on the streets of Lincoln as naturally as if he had
gone away but the day before. His life in the mountains had given him an
air of decision, a certain quiet energy and determination which
impressed one immediately with the sense of his being a man of strong