"Jack," said the Bishop, after the others had retired, and the two men sat in Captain Tom's cabin--"Jack, I've been thinkin' an' thinkin'--I must make some money." "How much?" asked Jack. "A thousand or two." "That's a lot of money," said the outlaw quickly. "A heap fur you to need." "It's not fur me," he said--"I don't need it--I wouldn't have it for myself. It's for him--see!" he pointed to the sleeping man on the low cot. "Jack, I've been talkin' to the Doctor--he examined Cap'n Tom's head, and he says it'd be an easy job--that it's a shame it ain't been done befo'--that in a city to the North,--he gave me the name of a surgeon there who could take that pressure from his head and make him the man he was befo'--the _man_, mind you, the _man_ he was befo'." Jack sat up excited. His eyes glittered. "Then there's Shiloh," went on the old man--"it'll mean life to her too--life to git away from the mill. "Cap'n Tom and Shiloh--I must have it, Jack--I must have it. God will provide a way. I'd give my home--I'd give everything--just to save them two--Cap'n Tom and little Shiloh." He felt a touch on his shoulder and looked up. Jack Bracken stood before him, clutching the handle of his big Colt's revolver, and his hat was pulled low over his eyes. He was flushed and panting. A glitter was in his eyes, the glitter of the old desperado spirit returned. "Bishop," he said, "ever' now and then it comes over me ag'in, comes over me--the old dare-devil feelin'." He held up his pistol: "All week I've missed somethin'. Last night I fingered it in my sleep." He pressed it tenderly. "Jes' you say the word," he whispered, "an' in a few hours I'll be back here with the coin. Shipton's bank is dead easy an' he is a money devil with a cold heart." The old man laughed and took the revolver from him. "It's hard, I know, Jack, to give up old ways. I must have made po' Cap'n Tom's and Shiloh's case out terrible to tempt you like that. But not even for them--no--no--not even for them. Set down." Jack sat down, subdued. Then the Bishop pulled out a paper from his pocket and chuckled. "Now, Jack, you're gwinter have the laugh on me, for the old mood is on me an' I'm yearnin' to do this jes' like you yearn to hold up the bank ag'in. It's the old instinct gettin' to wurk. But, Jack, you see--this--mine--ain't so bad. God sometimes provides in an onexpected way." "What is it?" asked Jack. The old man chuckled again. Then Jack saw his face turn red--as if half ashamed: "Why should I blame you, Jack, fur I'm doin' the same thing mighty nigh--I'm longin' for the flesh pots of Egypt. As I rode along to-day thinkin'--thinkin'--thinkin'--how can I save the children an' Cap'n Tom, _how can I get a little money to send Cap'n Tom off to the Doctor_--an' also repeatin' to myself--'_The Lord will provide--He will provide--_' I ran up to this, posted on a tree, an' kinder starin' me an' darin' me in the face."