dishonor, for a man's misdeeds are sure to follow him, soon or late. I
will not go into details--but you understand what I mean."

"No," said Weary, still with bent head, "I'll be darned if I do. And
if I did, I know about where to locate the source of all the
information you've loaded up on. Things were going smooth as silk till
Myrt Forsyth drifted out here--the red-headed little devil!"

"Mr. Davidson!" cried the schoolma'am, truly shocked.

"Oh, I'm revealing some more low, brutal instincts, I expect I'm liable
to reveal a lot more if I hang around much longer." He stopped, as if
there was more he wanted to say, and was doubtful of the wisdom of
saying it.

"I came over to say something--something particular--but I've changed
my mind. I guess yuh haven't much time to listen, and I don't believe
it would interest yuh as much as I thought it would--a while back. You
just go ahead and make a bosom friend uh Myrt Forsyth, Schoolma'am, and
believe every blamed lie she tells yuh. I won't be here to argue the
point. Looks to me like I'm about due to drift."

Miss Satterly, dumb with fear of what his words might mean, sat stiffly
while Weary got up and mounted Glory in a business like manner that was
extremely disquieting.

"I wish you could a cared, Girlie," he said with a droop of his
unsmiling mouth and a gloom in his eyes when he looked at her. "I was
a chump, I reckon, to ever imagine yuh could. Good-bye--and be good
to--yourself." He leaned to one side, swung backward his feet and