"Good heavens! You thought that?"

"My dear fellow, you write now, don't you? I'm giving you a bit of
psychology--showing you the point of view of the worm writhing beneath
the boot of lordly Man. But, always, I meant to turn, if I got the
chance. I washed myself; I shaved; I slipped into your nice clean
clothes. I'll admit that the warm water removed some encrusted mud
from my mind, but it sharpened rather then obscured my resolution to
make the most of what looked like a last chance. But when you uncorked
that Leoville, shame spoiled it for me."

"You drank only two glasses, I remember."

"It brought everything back--everything! If I had had one more glass,
I should have laid myself at your feet, whining and whimpering. The
cigar that I smoked afterwards was poppy and mandragora. Through a
cloud of smoke I saw all the pleasant years that were gone. Again I
weakened. I had aroused your interest. I could have sponged upon you
indefinitely. At that moment I saw the safe. Your brother imprudently
mentioned that a large sum of money lay inside it. I made up my mind
instantly to take the money, and did so that night. The dog was
licking my hand as I robbed you. But next morning----"

He paused, then he laughed lightly. "Next morning----"

"You appeared with the kit-bag! That disconcerted me terribly. It
proved what I had not perceived--that you two young Englishmen,
tenderfeet both of you, had realised what you were doing, had
seriously faced the responsibility of resurrecting the dead. The
letter to the cashier, the twenty-dollar bill I found in my coat-
pocket--these were as scorpions. But I hadn't the nerve to own up. So
I carried the money to the bank and deposited it to your account."

"Then you bought a six-shooter."

"Yes; I meant to try another world. I had had enough of this one. I
couldn't go back to my wallow."

"What restrained you?"

"The difficulty of finding a hiding-place. If my body were discovered,
I knew that it would be awful for you."

"Thanks."

"It's easy to find a hole, but it's not easy to pull a hole in after
one--eh? Still, I thought I should find some wild gulch on the Santa
Barbara trail, amongst those God-forsaken foothills. The buzzards
would pull the hole in within forty-eight hours."

"Ah! the buzzards." I shivered, seeing once more those grim sextons of
the Pacific seaboard.

"I found the right place; and just then I saw the stage crawling up
the grade. Immediately the ex