ere's a black mark on your ticket, lad. My
friend the doctor suspected it, and so do I. You are not a tourist
seeking adventure. You have all the earmarks of a fugitive from
justice."

Spurlock grew limp in his chair. "If you thought that, why did you
give me this job?"--his voice faint and thick.

"The doctor and I agreed to give you a chance--for her sake.
Without realizing what she has done, she's made a dreadful mess of
it. A child--as innocent as a child! Nothing about life; bemused by
the fairy stories you writers call novels! I don't know what you
have done; I don't care. But you must tell her."

"I can't! I can't--not now!"

"Bat!--can't you see that she's the kind who would understand and
forgive? She loves you."

The walls appeared to rock; bulging shadows reached out; the candle
flames became mocking eyes; and the blood drummed thunderously in
Spurlock's ears. The door to the apocalypse had opened!

"Loves me? . . . Ruth?"

"Why the devil not? Why do you suppose she married you if she
didn't love you? While you read I watched her face. It was in her
eyes--the big thing that comes but once. But you! Why the devil did
_you_ marry _her_? That's the thing that confounds me."

"God help me, what a muddle!" The cigar crumbled in Spurlock's
hand.

"All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. It is
a matter of degree. Lord, I am sixty. For thirty years I have lived
alone; but once upon a time I lived among men. I know life. I sit
back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my
loneliness sweet. I have had my day; and there were women in it.
So, when I tell you she loves you, I know. Supposing they find you
and take you away?--and she unprepared? Have you thought of that?
Why did you marry her?"

"God alone knows!"

"And you don't love her! What kind of a woman do you want,
anyhow?"--with rising anger. He saw the tragedy on the boy's face;
but he was merciless. "Are you a poltroon, after all?"

"That's it! I ought to have died that night!"

"Or is there a taint of insanity in your family history? Alone and
practically penniless like yourself! You weren't even stirred by
gratitude. You just married her. Lad, that fuddles me!"

"Did you bring me down here to crucify me?" cried Spurlock, in
passionate rebellion.

"No, lad," said McClintock, his tone becoming kindly. "Only, what
you have done is out of all human calculation. You did not marry
her because you loved he