"I will never consent."

"You must."

"Never."

"You shall. Why, think of the petty business that I was doing when you
came here. I was worth about four thousand. You have built up the
business to its present dimensions. Do you suppose that I don't know?"

"I can not allow you to make such a sacrifice," said Brandon.

"Stop," said Mr. Compton. "I have not said all. I attach a condition to
this which I implore you not to refuse. Listen to me, and you will then
be able to see."

Mr. Compton rose and looked carefully out into the office. There was no
one near. He then returned, locked the door, and drawing his chair close
to Brandon, began, in a low voice:

"You have your secrets and I have mine. I don't wish to know yours, but
my own I am going to tell to you, not merely for the sake of sympathy,
but rather for the sake of your assistance. I am going to tell you who I
am, and why I came out here.

"My name is not Compton. It is Henry Lawton. All my early life was
passed at York. There I married, had a son, and lived happily for years
--in fact, during the childhood of my boy.