It was not till two hours after midnight that they whisked away townward and left me alone, so that the graciousness of silence could enfold me again. I looked forward to a week's peace, before they descended on the camp again. But I had a premonition that there was to be no peace for me there. For Randall had said to me before he drove away.... "You know Pete Willets? Well, he's liable to come here for a few days, during the week ... a nice quiet fellow though ... won't disturb you." The thought of another visitor did disturb me. Though I knew Pete Willets as a quiet, gentle shoemaker in whom seemed no guile, I wanted to be alone to think and read and write. Wednesday noon Pete Willets drove up, accompanied by a grubby Woman whom at first glance I did not relish. "Hello, Johnnie, Frank said we could use the shack for a day or two." "Forever, as far as I'm concerned," I answered, beginning to tie up my books in a huge bundle as big as a peddler's pack, and as heavy. Impatiently tying the horse to a post, they were in the shack and immediately prone on my bunk. As I shouldered my load their murmuring voices full of amorous desire stung me like a gadfly. I hurried off toward Laurel, angry at life. I explained to Randall why I had left his camp so soon. He was gravely concerned. "I didn't tell Willets he could have my shack to take Gracie there. This is a bit too thick." "Who's Gracie?" "--a bad lot ... a girl that's been on the turf since she was in knee skirts--as long as I've known her. He loves her. She can twist him around her little finger. She's going to get him into something bad some day. He'll do anything she wants. And she's capable of putting him up to anything." "Willets is weak, when it comes to women ... don't drink much ... a hard worker ... everybody likes him.... "Did you ever notice his limp ... only slight ... scarcely noticeable, isn't it?... he's a corking mechanic as well as shoemaker ... mighty clever ... now for instance, you wouldn't ever have known, unless I told you, that his left leg is made of wood?" "I wouldn't even suspect it." "--lost his left leg when he was a brakeman ... made that wooden leg for himself ... it works so smoothly that he's thinking of taking out a patent on it." "Why does a woman take to a man with a wooden leg?" "--makes good money ... and he has a way about him with the girls ... he goes about so quietly. He's so gentle and considerate ... acts, but doesn't say much, you know! that's what they like!" "--damned sorry for his wife and two kids, though; when Willets comes to town again I'm not going to let him have my shack any more ... might be some trouble ... divorce or something." There was trouble and very shortly. In a month Willets had poisoned his wife ... with rough-on-rats ... and the quiet little shoemaker went to the penitentiary for life ... a life-time of shoe-making. * * * * *