"Well then, I’ll tell you what my opinion is, wife; the chap has got something else on his mind which troubles him." "What makes you think that?" "Little things I have noticed from time to time; but more especially the few words dropped when he first came here, to the effect that his had been a wasted life. He said, if I remember right, that he had disgraced a good name, and now wanted to hide and escape recognition." "Have you ever tried to gain his confidence?" "No, Bess, for I have always felt a delicacy about it. In my opinion, the confidence that is worth the name, should be given willingly, and not forced." "A little encouragement might not be thrown away,—natures, you know, are so different." "Well, the very next opportunity that offers I will endeavour to draw him out." Not many days after this conversation had taken place, Ranger was seated with Fellows, at the close of the day’s labour, outside the house, smoking their pipes, which seemed to offer the opportunity the former was waiting for. Breaking the silence which had reigned for some time, Ranger started by saying— "Look here, Fellows, you have been here now sufficiently long to know that I am not the sort of chap that is anxious to pry into the private affairs of other people, and therefore what I am about to say is not with any desire to gratify an idle curiosity." "That I am quite prepared to believe," he replied; "and anything you want to know, which I am able to tell, I shall be quite ready to do." "Well then, to come to the point at once, from your manner of late I should judge you have something on your mind which is troubling you. Am I right?" "Suppose I have! What then?" "Why, my boy, it will relieve your mind if you feel you can tell me what is troubling you. And who knows but that I may be able to help you, as I shall be willing to do if I can." "Your kindness touches me, but I am afraid your offer will not avail me much." "The way to prove that will be by letting me know your difficulty." "My difficulty, farmer, is the story of my life, which recent events have brought more prominently before me. For some time I have felt that I needed a friend,—one in whom I could confide, and who would be capable of advising me. "Well, all I will say is, that if you feel you can do so, you may trust me; and if I am not able to help you, you will find that Ranger is not a man to betray a trust reposed in him." "I quite believe you, my friend; and as a proof of the opinion I had formed of you, I may say I have several times of late been on the point of opening my mind to you, but something or other has occurred to prevent my doing so." After pausing awhile, he proceeded—