ground you walked on. I cried my eyes
out night after night ... and your poor mother ... and indeed all of us
... how could you do it? What had we done?"

"Drop it," said Arthur. "At that time I could have done anything. It was
pure thoughtlessness, regretted many a time since. I did it, and there's
the end of it, except that I am suffering now and must suffer more for
the folly."

"One thing, remember," said Louis, "you must let them all see that your
heart is in the right place. I'm not going to tell you all that was said
about you. But you must let every one see that you are as good as when
you left us."

"That would be too little, dear heart. Any man that has been through my
experiences and did not show himself ten times better than ever he was
before, ought to stay in the desert."

"That sounds like you," said Louis, gently pulling his beard.

"Tell me, partner," said Arthur lightly, "would you recognize me with
whiskers?"

"Never. There is nothing about you that reminds me of that boy who ran
away. Just think, it's ten years, and how we all change in ten years.
But say, what adventures you must have had! I've got to hear the whole
story, mind, from the first chapter to the last. You are to come over to
the house two nights in a week, to the old room, you remember, and
unfold the secrets of ten years. Haven't you had a lot of them?"

"A car-load, and of every kind. In the mines and forests, on the desert,
lost in the mountains, hunting and fishing and prospecting; not to
mention love adventures of the tenderest sort. I feel pleasant to think
of telling you my latest adventures in the old room, where I used to
curl you up with fright----"

"Over stories of witches and fairies," cried Louis, "when I would crawl
up your back as we lay in bed, and shiver while I begged you to go on.
And the room is just the same, for all the new things have the old
pattern. I felt you would come back some day with a bag of real stories
to be told in the same dear old place."

"Real enough surely," said Arthur with a deep sigh, "and I hope they may
not tire you in the telling. Mother ... tells me that you are going to
be a priest. Is that true?"

"As far as I can see now, yes. But one is never certain."

"Then I hope you will be one of the Monsignor's stamp. That man is
surely a man of God."

"Not a doubt of it," said Louis, taking his hat to go.

"One thing," said Arthur as he took his hand and detained him. He was
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