"You and I talked man to man once back there in the shack. Northrup, we must do it now. We needn't be damned fools. I've got a line on Mary-Clare and yes, thank God! on you. I can trust you both. She mustn't know. When it's all over, I want her to have the feeling that she's played square. She has, but if she thought I felt as I do to-day, it would hurt her. You understand? She's like that. Why, she's fixed it up in her mind that I'm going to pull through, and she's braced to do her part to the end; but"--here Larry paused, his dull eyes filled with hot tears; his strength was almost gone--"but I wanted you to help her--if it means what it once did to you." "It means that and more, Rivers." Northrup heard his own words with a kind of shock. Again he and Rivers were stripped bare as once before they had been. "It--it won't be long, Northrup--there's damned little I can do to--to make good, but--I can do this." The choking voice fell into silence. Presently Northrup stood up. Years seemed to have passed since he had come into the room. It was a trick of life, in the Forest, when big things happened--they swept all before them. "Rivers, you are a brave man," he slowly said. "Will you shake hands?" The thin cold fingers instantly responded. "God helping me, I will not betray your trust. Once I would not have been so sure of myself, but you and I have been taught some strange truths." Then something of the old Larry flashed to the surface: the old, weak relaxing, the unmoral craving for another's solution of his problems. "Oh, it always has to be someone to help me out," he said. "You know about Maclin?" "Yes, Rivers." "Well, I did the turn for that damned scoundrel. I got the Forest out of his clutches." "Yes, you did when you got your eyes opened, Rivers." "They're open now, Northrup, but there always has to be--someone to help me out." "Rivers, where is your wife?" So suddenly did Northrup ask this that Larry started and gave a quick laugh. "She went to that cabin of hers--you know?" "Yes, I know." Both men were reliving old scenes. Then Larry spoke, but the laugh no longer rang in his tone: "She'll be coming, by now, down the trail," he whispered. "Go and meet her, tell her you've been here, that I told you where she was--nothing more! Nothing more. Ever!" "That's right, never!" Northrup murmured. Then he added: "I'll come back with her, Rivers, soon. I'm going to stay at the inn for a time." Their hands clung together for a moment longer while one man relinquished, the other accepted. Then Northrup turned to the door. There was a dull purplish glow falling on the Forest. The subtle, haunting smell of wood smoke rose pungently. It brought back, almost hurtingly, the past. Northrup walked rapidly along the trail. Hurrying, hurrying to meet--he knew not what!