“If I might take a hand,” he said, diffidently, “I might contribute somethin' to help you out.” Peter regarded him a little impatiently. He had forgotten the concrete, for the moment, in the abstract, and was donning his armor for a battle with Kenny upon the “fundamentals.” Hence he was not too well pleased with Yankee's interruption. But Donald Ross gladly welcomed the diversion. The subject was to him extremely painful. “We will be glad,” he said to Yankee, “to hear you, Mr. Latham.” “Well,” said Yankee, slowly, “from your remarks I gathered that you wanted information about the doings of--” he jerked his head toward the house behind him. “Now, I want to say,” he continued, confidentially, “you've come to the right shop, for I've ate and slept, I've worked and fought, I've lived with him by day and by night, and right through he was the straightest, whitest man I ever seen, and I won't except the boss himself.” Yankee paused to consider the effect of this statement, and to allow its full weight to be appreciated; and then he continued: “Yes, sir, you may just bet your--you may be right well sure,” correcting himself, “that you're safe in givin'”--here he dropped his voice, and jerked his head toward the house again--“in givin' the highest marks, full value, and no discount. Why,” he went on, with an enthusiasm rare in him, “ask any man in the gang, any man on the river, if they ever seen or heard of his doin' a mean or crooked thing, and if you find any feller who says he did, bring him here, and, by”--Yankee remembered himself in time--“and I give you my solemn word that I'll eat him, hat and boots.” Yankee brought his bony fist down with a whack into his hand. Then he relapsed into his lazy drawl again: “No, siree, hoss! If it's doin's you're after, don't you be slow in bankin' your little heap on HIS doin's.” Donald Ross grasped Yankee's hand and shook it hard. “I will be thanking you for that word,” he said, earnestly. But Peter felt that the cause of truth demanded that he should speak out. “Mr. Latham,” he said, solemnly, “what you have been saying is very true, no doubt, but if a man is not 'born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.' These are the words of the Lord himself.” “Born again!” said Yankee. “How? I don't seem to get you. But I guess the feller that does the right thing all round has got a purty good chance.” “It is not a man's deeds, we are told,” said Peter, patiently, “but his heart.” “There you are,” said Yankee, warmly, “right again, and that's what I always hold to. It's the heart a man carries round in his inside. Never mind your talk, never mind your actin' up for people to see. Give me the heart that is warm and red, and beats proper time, you bet. Say! you're all right.” Yankee gazed admiringly at the perplexed and hopeless Peter.