"All right," and Chief Gordon hastened to overtake the stranger. The pale youth plodding seriously through the darkness did not avert his face from the lantern held up to scrutinise it. "You've followed that man," said Captain White. "You've been faithful to him. What are you going to do now?" The young man's labouring heavy step did not become more light, but his face became illumined by a cynical gleam. "I'm not at the end of my resources." "What's your name?" asked Captain White abruptly. "I'd be a fool to tell you." "I'll tell you," said Captain White, shifting his lantern from one hand to the other, and giving him a resounding slap on the back. "Charlie White--own cousin to me, Micah White. Just from his home in the West--sad on account of his guardian's death. Is it a bargain, young man?" The criminal stopped short. "Do you mean it?" "Am I in a humour for jokes with that behind me?" and Captain White pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "Isn't my blood going creepy, crawly through my veins? Come on, young man. Behind you is death, damnation,--a cursed life. Before you is honesty, a chance to win men's approval, a loophole to enter kingdom come." The young man paced slowly on. The weird cry of a bird disturbed by those in front pierced the night. Something rooted in his nature called as shrilly for the troubled mystery and excitement of his city life. He hated the quiet, the unintoxicating calm of such a peaceful place as this, and yet--and yet--suppose he plunged again into his criminal career. He would go down, down to what? To a hunted life, to a dishonoured grave. "I'll try it," he said, at last, and without enthusiasm. "Have I to thank the old lady?" "Yes," said Captain White, briefly, and seizing him by the arm as if fearful that a delay might change his resolution, he fairly ran him through the dark streets to the parsonage. The young criminal forbore to ask a question even after a long delay at the door. Captain White rang the bell persistently and loudly, and at last an upper window was opened. "Who's there?" "Micah White." "Oh, I'll be right down," and in a few minutes Mrs. Negus, smiling, and shading a candle in her hand, appeared in nondescript costume. "A new boarder for you," ejaculated Captain White, pushing the young man in. "Own cousin of mine--used up from a journey--going to be assistant superintendent in the canneries, to fill the place Pottses have long been clamouring to fill, and that I out of obstinacy wouldn't. A good clean boy, but delicate. Coddle him a bit, let the children play with him. Name, Charles White." The new Charles White bit his lip, and in a tired fashion shook hands with the beaming Mrs. Negus. "I'm real glad to get a boarder," she assured him. "I've been lonely since my minister left. Here's his room," and conducting him up-stairs, she opened the door of a nestlike apartment with pink roses on the wall, and mild-faced china figures of lambs and dogs on the mantel.