"So you knew of his habits and offered him money? It was your duty to have reported him to me." "I do not need you, Mr. Blaisdell, or any one else, to tell me what my duty is here," replied Houston, with dignity, "I did not know until recently to what extent Morgan was gambling, and when a man is in trouble, I will never give him a push downward." One of the workmen just then came to Houston for instructions regarding the shipment which he had ordered from Silver City, thus attracting Mr. Blaisdell's attention in that direction. "What is this, Houston?" he exclaimed angrily, "what does this mean? You certainly had no right, no authority to order these things; the company will not pay one cent toward the burial of a man who has proven himself so unworthy of the confidence reposed in him." "Mr. Blaisdell," said Houston, calmly, but in a tone his employer had never heard before, "there is not the least necessity for the company to pay one cent, or for you to feel any concern in this matter. I have ordered these things myself, personally, upon my own responsibility." For the first time Mr. Blaisdell had found an employe who evidently did not stand in fear of him, and surprise held him silent for a moment. "Very well," he answered, in an altered tone, "but I must say I can see no reason for such a quixotic proceeding on your part; I never supposed you and Morgan were particular friends." "Here is my reason," Houston replied, handing him the bit of paper bearing Morgan's last words; "When a despairing man, in his last moments, appeals to me as his friend, and his only friend, even though that man were my worst enemy, I would feel in duty bound to do for him everything that a friend could do." Mr. Blaisdell returned the slip, and there was a new respect indicated in tone and manner, as he replied: "I don't know but you are right, do as you think best. I am going up to the camp, you can come whenever you are ready." "I shall be there in a few hours," said Houston, and they separated. A little later, everything that he could do had been done, and as Houston looked for the last time upon the pale face, where the angel of death was already smoothing out the lines traced by the last few days of suffering, and softening the features into a look of contentment and peace, he was glad that in the last moments of that life, there had come faith, even in one human being.