_Sane Self_: A suicidal attitude. Be sensible instead. Take the best care of yourself, and so be fit in every way to welcome her back. _Insane Self_: But, I must see her; I _must_ see her soon! _Sane Self_: Perhaps. Be calm. Nothing is to be gained by rashness. You will only succeed in wearing yourself out. _Insane Self_: I am on this peak to-night because of a racked mind. I may climb it again before morning. _Sane Self_: What of Buck Steele? _Insane Self_: Ah! _Sane Self_: What of Buck Steele? His love is just as great as yours--perhaps greater, for he has not the restraining leash of a cultivated mind. He is your rival. Is he sapping his strength by doing without food, straying through the forest, and climbing mountains? No; he is making those iron muscles harder every day at his forge, and when the time comes when you and he face each other--as come it inevitably must--he will twist you in two like a winter-rotted weed! He is sensible; you are a fool! My insane self made no reply to this last speech, because it no longer existed. I was effectually sobered. What Buck's laugh that morning may have meant did not really matter. All day he had been on the outskirts of my mind, but I had been too busy with other subjects to admit him for intimate inspection and consideration. Now my sane self proceeded to shove him forward relentlessly, and I accepted his presence as something quite necessary, but undesired. Whether or not he sensed the approaching encounter as plainly as I, of course I could not say. But I knew that a bulldog resolve had lodged in his mind to have Celeste for his wife, and it took no seer to declare that he would use every weapon in his reach to prevent me from taking her. He had only one weapon--his superb physical strength--and I knew he would arrange or provoke a meeting, if none arose naturally. What would become of me then? Instinctively I flexed my right arm and grasped the bulging biceps. Like rock. Not as large as the smith's, I was sure, but might dwelt there. I felt my other arm, my legs, and thumped my chest with my fist. Yes; I, too, was some man. I was hard as nails all over, but I was fearfully tired. All I needed was rest; good, sound, eight hours a day sleep, and presently I would be fit. I must adopt a rigid system of living, and hold to it faithfully until these parlous times were over. For perhaps two hours then my mind worked along rational lines, and when I left my perch to carefully descend the perilous declivity, I realized with intense satisfaction that I had myself admirably well in hand.