“At first he was, he made a good deal of money; and I reckon if he'd lived he'd soon been on his feet again; but we struck a wave of temporary depression; you know how those things go,” said Gibbs stoutly. He was not blind, but it was not in his nature to admit an unqualified defeat; beside Benson was the last man to whom he would have told the truth where it touched Landray's pathetic struggle. “Too bad!” and again Benson's shrewd glance comprehended his guest. His lips curled cynically; in that moment he was quite without pity for Gibbs, who looked the shabby adventurer all too plainly; whose flame-coloured face and shaking uncertain hands told their own story. How could Landray have been deceived by Gibbs! He felt only intolerance and contempt for what he conceived to have been Stephen's utter lack of judgment. It was his determined wrongheadedness that had wrecked his life; no one could have saved him. “It's not necessary for me to ask if Landray left anything. I suppose his little son is quite unprovided for?” In spite of himself, something of his feeling had crept into the lawyer's tone. This was not lost on Gibbs, and resentment showed in his battered face, but he contented himself with merely saying: “If he'd lived he'd won out, but he died at the wrong moment. No, he didn't leave anything.” “Humph!” said the lawyer, and fell silent. The general poured himself a drink of whisky, emptied his glass, and poured himself another; the immediate effect of this was that he was somewhat mollified. He looked about him with undisguised approval in his eyes. “You have housed yourself rather handsomely, Jake; I wonder what the old man would say if he could come back and see how the money he made out of pelts and whisky had been spent; appearances never bothered him,” he said, disrespectfully. “And you have changed, Jake; you've sort of taken on additions, too. I'd never have thought you had a taste for luxury; but here I find you living like a prince.” “How have I changed?” asked Benson curiously. “Well, I should say you were less frank for one thing, Jake; and you have accumulated dignity along with your dollars; but it's a combination that's hard to beat; I wonder you ain't ever married.” There was another silence, in which Gibbs applied himself to his glass.