“I can tell. You have something on your mind.” He made an attempt to turn her aside from the topic of the mind-burdens. “Haven’t I had you to myself for days and days? I don’t know what more a man could ask.” “Oh, that!” she mocked. “But, just the same, you’re not happy.” Then she added, apparently as an after-thought: “And neither am I.” “Don’t tell me it is because you are missing the others,” he pleaded, still intent upon warding off the more personal personalities. “I am missing them dreadfully; especially Lord Cumberleigh and little Freddy Wishart. But mostly it’s your ingratitude.” “My ingratitude?” “That is what I said. In the kiddie days you used to tell me everything. But now you are shutting me out. You lead me along just so far, but beyond that I find myself talking to another David, one that I know less and less every day.” For a time he was silent. Then he said: “You are altogether right--as you always are, Vinnie. There _is_ another David; a man that I am trying mighty hard to get acquainted with, myself. I don’t know him well enough yet to introduce him to you.” “That sounds almost uncanny. Is it meant to be?” “It is uncanny. I can’t account for it--or him--or wholly approve him. This other David isn’t always a pleasant person to meet. Part of the time I seem to recognize him in a vague sort of way, and then again he becomes a total stranger; a man of moods and impulses and perfectly barbarous leanings.” “I know,” she said quietly. “I’ve seen him now and then. I saw him to-day when we were down at the Cross Gulch bridge. The foreman had apparently been doing something that you had told him not to do. You didn’t rave at him, but for a second or two the other David looked out through your eyes.” “How do you account for it--or him?” “How should I be able to account for it--or him--if you can’t? Of course, there are always general principles. If a watch has been keeping good time and begins to go wrong, it is a sign that some one has been tinkering with the works, isn’t it?” “And you would suggest that some one has been tinkering with my works?” “I know that you are different--and that I am sorry.” “Have I been different this evening?” “Yes, part of the time.” “There is some little cause for the added grouch just now. I’ve been neglecting a plain duty. Did you notice the thinness of the gangs working on the lower section when we were down there to-day?” “Not particularly.” “They were thin. Yesterday was pay-day, and a lot of those hand-to-mouth ‘wops’ are blowing themselves in Powder Can. When I first came here I saw that that mining-camp would have to be cleaned up, but I’ve been putting it off. Out of the goodness of his heart, your father tells me to let it alone; he’d rather take his losses than to have me shoulder another load, I suppose. But the thing has reached the limit. I’m going after it with a sharp stick.”