He did. He began at the beginning, and while it would not be true to say he did not spare himself, he told the story as it actually happened. He concealed no essential. "I rode there and back last night simply because I couldn't kiss you again until I had made myself an honest man." She reached out and clutched the hand which lay on the table near her--a sudden convulsive embrace. "Last night?" "Yes, I've been to the camp since I left you last night. I couldn't stand with you--there--before all our friends, till I could say I had no other man's money in my pockets." She took his hand in both of her own and bent her head and touched her cheek to his fingers. She was very deeply moved. And he--though his voice choked--faltered through: "I gave it all back, dear--I mean I gave over to Biddy and Dan their full share--they are equal owners with you and me in 'The Witch.' I tried to withhold some of it; it was hard to give it all back; but I did it because I believed you would approve of it. And now, if you will let me, I can call you my wife with a clear conscience." For answer she rose and came to his side, and put her arms about his neck and laid a kiss on his upturned face. Words were of no avail. In his heart the man was still afraid of one so good and loving. THE END End of Project Gutenberg's The Spirit of Sweetwater, by Hamlin Garland