firmly. "It was that of a professional gambler, utterly devoid of
mercy toward his victims; a reckless fighter, who shot to kill upon the
least provocation; a man without moral character, and from whom any
good action was impossible. That was what was said about you. Is the
tale true?"

Hampton laughed unpleasantly, his eyes grown hard and ugly.

"I presume it must be," he admitted, with a quick side glance toward
the closed door, "for the girl out yonder thought about the same. A
most excellent reputation to establish with only ten years of strict
attendance to business."

Wynkoop's grave face expressed his disapproval.

"Well, in my present judgment that report was not altogether true," he
went on clearly and with greater confidence. "I did suppose you
exactly that sort of a man when I first came into this room. I have
not believed so, however, for a single moment since. Nevertheless, the
naked truth is certainly bad enough, without any necessity for our
resorting to romance. You may deceive others by an assumption of
recklessness, but I feel convinced your true nature is not evil. It
has been warped through some cause which is none of my business. Let
us deal alone with facts. You are a gambler, a professional gambler,
with all that that implies; your life is, of necessity, passed among
the most vicious and degrading elements of mining camps, and you do not
hesitate even to take human life when in your judgment it seems
necessary to preserve your own. Under this veneer of lawlessness you
may, indeed, possess a warm heart, Mr. Hampton; you may be a good
fellow, but you are certainly not a model character, even according to