Gale's outstretched hand. There was a close, hard, straining grip.
"I must not be recognized here. There are reasons. I'll explain in
a minute. Say, but it's fine to see you! Five years, Dick, five
years since I saw you run down University Field and spread-eagle the
whole Wisconsin football team."

"Don't recollect that," replied Dick, laughing. "George, I'll bet
you I'm gladder to see you than you are to see me. It seems so
long. You went into the army, didn't you?"

"I did. I'm here now with the Ninth Cavalry. But--never mind me.
What're you doing way down here? Say, I just noticed your togs.
Dick, you can't be going in for mining or ranching, not in this
God-forsaken desert?"

"On the square, George, I don't know any more why I'm here than--than
you know."

"Well, that beats me!" ejaculated Thorne, sitting back in his chair,
amaze and concern in his expression. "What the devil's wrong?
Your old man's got too much money for you ever to be up against it.
Dick, you couldn't have gone to the bad?"

A tide of emotion surged over Gale. How good it was to meet a
friend--some one to whom to talk! He had never appreciated his
loneliness until that moment.

"George, how I ever drifted down here I don't know. I didn't
exactly quarrel with the governor. But--damn it, Dad hurt
me--shamed me, and I dug out for the West. It was this way.