“Why, bless your heart, daddy,” cried Dan, “I wouldn't have you changed. You're talking nonsense. I won't let you go away.” “But the girl, Dannie, the girl--the doctor's daughter! You see I hear a lot of gossip in the shop, and even if you haven't told me, I know.” “We may as well count that at an end,” said Dan, quietly. “Do you think of leaving here?” “No. If I began by running, I'd be running all the rest of my life. I shall remain until I've accomplished everything I've set out to do, if it takes ten years.” “And what about Miss Emory, Dannie? If you are going to stay, why is that at an end?” “I dare say she'll marry Mr. Ryder. Anyhow, she won't marry me.” “But I thought you cared for her?” “I do, daddy.” “Then why do you give up? You're as good as he is any day.” “I'm not her kind, that's all. It has nothing to do with this. It would have been the same, anyhow. I'm not her kind.” Roger Oakley turned this over slowly in his mind. It was most astonishing. He couldn't grasp it. “Do you mean she thinks she is better than you are?” he asked, curiously. “Something of that sort, I suppose,” dryly. “I want you to come back into the shops, father.” “I can't do it, Dannie. I'm sorry if you wish it, but it's impossible. I want to keep out of sight. Back East, when they pardoned me, every one knew, and I didn't seem to mind, but here it's not the same. I can't face it. It may be cowardly, but I can't.” CHAPTER XIV OAKLEY had told his father he was going to call at the Emorys'. He wanted to see Constance once more. Then it didn't much matter what happened. As he passed up the street he was conscious of an impudent curiosity in the covert glances the idlers on the corners shot at him. With hardly an exception they turned to gaze after him as he strode by. He realized that an unsavory distinction had been thrust upon him. He had become a marked man. He set his lips in a grim smile. This was what he would have to meet until the silly wonder of it wore off, or a fresh sensation took its place, and there would be the men at the shops; their intercourse had hitherto been rather pleasant and personal, as he had recognized certain responsibilities in the relation which had made him desire to be more than a mere task-master. The thought of his theories caused him to smile again. His humanitarian-ism had received a jolt from which it would not recover in many a long day. The hands already hated him as a tyrant, and probably argued that his authority was impaired by the events of the morning, though how they arrived at any such conclusion was beyond him, but he had felt something of the kind in Branyon's manner. When the opportunity came it would be a satisfaction to undeceive them, and he was not above wishing this opportunity might come soon, for his mood was bitter and revengeful, when he recalled their ignorant and needlessly brutal insolence.