The defiance in the young man's voice gave way to a note of hopeless
despair. "Yes," he said, "you and dad made me drink the stuff before
I was old enough to know what it would do for me." Then, with a bitter
oath, he continued, half to himself, "What difference does it make
anyway. Every time I try to break loose something reaches out and pulls
me down again. I thought I was free this time sure and here comes this
thing. I might as well go to the devil and done with it. Why shouldn't
I drink if I want to; whose business is it but my own?" He looked
around for the familiar sign of a saloon.

"That's the talk," exclaimed the other with a swagger. "That's how yer
paw used ter put it. Your maw warn't much good no how, with her finicky
notions 'bout eddicati'n an' sech. A little pone and baken with plenty
good ol' red eye's good 'nough fer us. Yer maw she--"

But he never finished, for Dick caught him by the throat with his left
hand, the other clenched ready to strike. The tramp shrank back in a
frightened, cowering heap.

"You beast," cried the young man with another oath. "If you dare to
take my mother's name in your foul mouth again I'll kill you with my
bare hands."

"I didn't go fer to do hit. 'Fore God I didn't go ter. Lemme go Dicky;
me'n yer daddy war pards. Lemme go. Yer paw an' me won't bother ye no
more Dicky; he can't; he's dead."

"Dead!" Dick released his grasp and the other sprang to a safe
distance.--"Dead!" He gazed at the quaking wretch before him in