"But what I'm gettin' at," broke in the other, pulling him back to the question of matrimony, "is, what are you goin' to do, when you know God ain't ridin' with a couple, when it's a sin for 'em to be together, but when th' man holds to his wife like I'd hold to a cow with my brand on her, an' when th' woman--maybe--hangs to him 'cause she thinks th' Lord _has_ had somethin' to do with it." "In that case, if she thinks of the Father's connection as an affair of the past, she must know it is no longer holy; someone should open her eyes, someone who is unselfish, who has a perspective, who is willing to be patient and help her, to suffer with her, if need be." "You wouldn't recommend that a party who sort of hankered to wring th' husband's neck an' who thought the wife was 'bout th' finest thing God ever put breath into, start out to tackle th' job, would you?" Weyl rubbed his chin in thoughtful consideration; then replied slowly: "No, it is our duty to give the blind sight; we can only do that by knowing that our motives are holy when we undertake the job. That is the first and only matter to consider. Beyond motives, we cannot judge men and women.... "My bishop would drop dead before me, Bruce, if he heard that." The other was silent a moment; then he said, slowly, "I wish some of us miser'ble sinners could be so open minded as some of you God fearin', hell-preachin' church goers!" After a long interval, in which their discussion rambled over a score of topics, Bayard left. "If you ever get near th' Circle A in that chariot of fire, I hope she goes up in smoke, so you'll have to stay a while!" he said. "An' I hope M's. Weyl's with you when it happens." "Your wishes for bad luck are only offset by the hope that sometime we can come and spend some days with you, my friend!" laughed the minister as they shook hands. * * * * * Ann and Nora had returned when Bruce reached the Manzanita House and in the former's room a few moments later, after he had reported on Lytton's slow gaining of strength, Bayard said to her, "Do you believe what I tell you, ma'am?" She looked at him as though she did not get his meaning, but saw he was in earnest and replied, "I've never doubted a thing you've told me." "Then I want you to believe one more thing I'm goin' to tell you, an' I don't want you to ask me any questions about it, cause I'm so hogtied--that is, situated, ma'am--that I can't answer any. I just want to tell you never to let your husband go back to th' Sunset mine." "Never to _let_ him? Why, when he's himself again that's where his work will be--" "I can't help that, ma'am. All I can say is, not to let him. It means more to you than anybody can think who don't know th' ways of men in a country like this. Just remember that, an' believe that, will you?" "You want him to give up everything?" "All I want, ma'am, is for you to say you'll never let him go there."