n
he thought himself capable of doing.

He was awakened early by Jack: "Harry, your father is here, and very
anxious to see you."

Mose arose slowly and reluctantly. He had nothing to say to his father,
and dreaded the interview, which he feared would be unpleasantly
emotional. The father met him with face pale and hands trembling with
emotion. "My son, my son!" he whispered. Mose stood silently wondering
why his father should make so much fuss over him.

Mr. Excell soon recovered his self-command, and his voice cleared. "I
had almost given up seeing you, Harold. I recognize you with
difficulty--you have changed much. You seem well and strong--almost as
tall as I was at your age."

"I hold my own," said Harold, and they all sat down more at ease. "I got
into rough gangs out there, but I reckon they got as good as they
sent."

"I suppose the newspapers have greatly exaggerated about your
conflicts?"

Harold was a little disposed to shock his father. "Oh, yes, I don't
think I really killed as many men as they tell about; I don't know that
I killed any."

"I hope you did not lightly resort to the use of deadly weapons," said
Mr. Excell sadly.

"It was kill or be killed," said Harold grimly. "It was like shooting a
pack of howling wolves. I made up my mind to be just one shot ahead of
anybody. There are certain counties out there where the name 'Black
Mose' means something."

"I'm sorry for that, my son. I hope you don't drink?"

"Don't you worry about that. I can't afford to drink, and if I could I
wouldn't. Oh, I take a glass of beer with the boys once in a while on a
hot day, but it's my lay to keep sober. A drunken man is a soft mark."
He changed the subject: "Seems to me you're a good deal grayer."

Mr. Excell ran his fingers through the tumbled heap of his grizzled
hair. "Yes; things are troubling me a little. The McPhails are fighting
me in the church, and intend to throw me out and ruin me if they can,
but I shall fight them till the bitter end. I am not to be whipped out
like a dog."

"That's the talk! Don't let 'em run you out. I got run out of Cheyenne,
but I'll never run again. I was only a kid then. After you throw 'em
down, come out West and round up the cowboys. They won't play any
underhanded games on you, and mebbe you can do them some
good--especially on gambling. They are sure enough idiots about cards."

They went down to breakfast together, but did not sit together.

Jack and Harold