"In the name of God, help me out, Wade!" he pleaded, dropping all his obstinacy. "I couldn't argue with that crazy man. I'll put the girl to school. I'll give her money. She shall have everything heart can wish--except my home. Think of my family, Mr. Wade! Think of my daughter! I want to have the respect of my family, Mr. Wade, for the few years that are left to me. Help me, and you won't be sorry for it. I'll--" "I want no pay and no promises," broke in the young man. "You have been free with your cry of blackmail. You can never taunt me with that. I'm simply appealing to your manhood. But I'm going to see that your daughter gets her rights, and that is no threat--it is justice." "Aren't those rights enough--what I have said?" urged Barrett. "Perhaps they are. They are probably all she can expect. People hardly ever get all they deserve in this world--either in blessings or punishments." His tone was bitter. And he stood apart and gazed out over the broad expanse to the south, his brow wrinkling. He was trying to analyze the emotions that made him champion the outcast. The thunder-heads had rolled on, but like mighty and noisy engines they had dragged behind them masses of clouds that covered the skies with a slaty expanse, and a storm, settled and steady, poured down its grateful floods. Already the fire was dying. Only here and there scattered flames fought the streaming skies from the tops of resinous trees. "Mr. Barrett," said Wade, at length, "the girl is at Lane's. You can't meet her now. It is not the time and place. Probably Lane has returned there. I don't think his mind is right--and after knowing the wrong you did him, I can understand why. You've time to reach Britt's camp before night. It is in the clearing to the north. You are an old woodsman. You can find your way there." Barrett nodded relieved assent. "You have asked me to help you. As that includes helping this poor girl most of all, I am going to do what I can, for the sake of you and your family." Barrett gave a quick glance at him, but the young man's face was impassive. Perhaps the timber baron had hoped, for his own temporary guarantee, to see a flash of the old love in Wade's eyes. "I'm going to request you to leave this matter in my hands for the present. I will see Withee, and try to stop gossip in that quarter. Will you give me the right to--well, to modify some of your threats? And as to Withee--I believe you spoke of a contract!" John Barrett stood straighter now. The sneer of conscious authority, the frown of tyranny, had gone from his face. There was a frankness in his face and a sincerity in his tones that few persons had seen or heard before. But the new inspiration was logical and real. The young man who stood before him had just waived a mean vengeance so nobly that his heart swelled. His doubts were quieted.