"It will live and grow up," he said carelessly. "They always do, somehow.
Make another like his father, I suppose. A few years of fame in the
mountain saloons, and then a knife in the back."

The meager body of Elizabeth stiffened. She was finding it less easy to
maintain her nonchalant smile.

"Why?"

"Why? Blood will out, like murder, sis."

"Nonsense! All a matter of environment."

"Have you ever read the story of the Jukes family?"

"An accident. Take a son out of the best family in the world and raise
him like a thief--he'll be a thief. And the thief's son can be raised to
an honest manhood. I know it!"

She was seeing Black Jack, as he had raced down the street with the black
hair blowing about his face. Of such stuff, she felt, the knights of
another age had been made. Vance was raising a forefinger in an
authoritative way he had.

"My dear, before that baby is twenty-five--that was his father's
age--he'll have shot a man. Bet you on it!"

"I'll take your bet!"

The retort came with such a ring of her voice that he was startled.