"Yes, there are no newspapers out here to get up Christmas charity drives, and there are few volunteer settlement workers to be called on for help at any time. And there are no charity balls for the Indian. It isn't that he wants charity so much as understanding." "Understanding often comes quickest through charity," interposed Helen. "It seems to me that no one could ask a better life-work than to help these people." "There's more to them than the world has been willing to concede," declared Lowell. "I never have subscribed to Parkman's theory that the Indian's mind moves in a beaten track and that his soul is dormant. The more I work among them the more respect I have for their capabilities." Further talk of Indian affairs consumed the remainder of the trip. Lowell was an enthusiast in his work, though he seldom talked of it, preferring to let results speak for themselves. But he had found a ready and sympathetic listener. Furthermore, he wished to take the girl's mind from the matters that evidently were proving such a weight. He succeeded so well that not until they reached the ranch did her troubled expression return. "Tell me," said Lowell, as he helped her from the automobile, "is he--is Morgan better, and is he treating you all right?" "Yes, to both questions," said she. Then, after a moment's hesitation, she added: "Come in. Perhaps it will be possible for you to see him." Lowell stepped into the room that served as Morgan's study. One wall was lined with books, Greek predominating. Helen knocked at the door of the adjoining room, and there came the clear, sharp, cynical voice that had aroused all the antagonism in Lowell's nature on his first visit. "Come in, come in!" called the voice, as cold as ice crystals. Helen entered, and closed the door. The voice could be heard, in different modulations, but always with profound cynicism as its basis. Lowell, with a gesture of rage, stepped to the library table. He picked up a volume of Shakespeare's tragedies, and noticed that all references to killing and to bloodshed in general had been blotted out. Passage after passage was blackened with heavy lines in lead pencil. In astonishment, Lowell picked up another volume and found that the same thing had been done. Then the door opened and he heard the cutting voice say: "Tell the interesting young agent that I am indisposed. I have never had a social caller within my doors here, and I do not wish to start now." Helen came out and closed the door. "You heard?" she asked. "Yes," replied Lowell. "It's all right. I'm only sorry if my coming has caused you any additional pain or embarrassment. I won't ask you again what keeps you in an atmosphere like this, but any time you want to leave, command me on the instant."