"That's talking like a reasonable man, sir." "You must excuse me. Much of my life has been passed on ranches and upon the mountains, among desperadoes and rough fellows, who do not place much value upon a man's life. Then I have had long dealings with Indians and bears, and altogether I am not much of a drawing-room man." The lawyer bowed and glanced at the pistol on the table at his side. "During my last year in the West, I picked up for companion a clever, shrewd fellow, named Portway--Daniel Portway. He was in terribly low water, and as it seemed to me undeservedly. He had been gold-prospecting, he told me, and had made some good finds; but ill-luck had dogged his steps. He was robbed by his companions twice over. He was attacked by Indians three or four times, and when I came upon him in Denver the poor wretch was down with fever. Well, to make the story short, I did what one Englishman would do by another if he found him out in a wild place dying. I couldn't get a woman to attend him for love or money, so I had to do it myself, and a long and tedious job I had. I don't know that I liked him, but I found he was a clever hunter, and knew the way about the mountains well, so we became companions, and I took him on my hunting expeditions. There, sir, honestly, I don't think I could have behaved better to him if he had been a brother." There was a pause, and then in a voice husky with emotion he exclaimed: "Hang it all! how can a man be such a brute? Well, sir, I suppose in chatting with him I let him know all my affairs, and at last read him my letters. He knew that I was coming to England as soon as I had ended that last expedition. There, I'm a frank sort of fellow, who would trust any man till I found out that he was a rogue. I suppose I began talking about my affairs, like a fool, to relieve the tedium of his illness. Thus it went on till he must have known all I knew." "This is a very plausible story, Mr Daniel Portway," said the lawyer quietly; but he started, and laid his hand upon the revolver, so fierce was the bound the young man made to his feet. But he sat down again directly. "No, no; you don't think that, sir. May I go on?" "By all means." "Shall I take the cartridges out of the revolver, sir?" said the young man drily, "in case, I make a snatch at it." "No, no, no. Go on, sir; go on." There was a meaning smile on the young man's lips as he went on again, and began telling of his last hunting-trip; but the smile soon died out, and he looked stern and relentless as he spoke of the weary tramp they had had, the midday sleep, and their journey afterwards till they were beside the great canon, where he stepped forward to look about him.