littered with books and papers, a washstand, a
comfortable bed upon which reclined a man smoking and reading.

"Somebody to see you, Blake," called the guard, and he went out,
shutting the door behind him.

Blake sat up. As he did so, moving his bootless feet, Pan's keen eye
espied a bottle on the floor.

Pan approached leisurely, his swift thoughts revolving around a
situation that looked peculiar to him. Blake was very much better
cared for there than could have been expected. Why?

"Howdy, Blake. Do you remember me?" asked Pan halting beside the table.

He did not in the least remember Lucy's father in this heavy blond man,
lax of body and sodden of face.

"Somethin' familiar aboot you," replied Blake, studying Pan intently.
"But I reckon you've got the best of me."

"Pan Smith," said Pan shortly.

"Wal!" he ejaculated, as if shocked into memory, and slowly he rose to
hold out a shaking hand. "Bill's kid--the little boy who stuck by my
wife--when Lucy was born."

"Same boy, and he's damn sorry to find you in this fix," responded Pan,
forcefully. "And he's here to get you out."

Blake sagged back as slowly as he had arisen. His face changed like
that of a man suddenly stabbed. And he dropped his head. In that
moment Pan saw enough to make him glad. Manifestly the good in him had
not been wholly killed by evil. Jim Blake might yet be reclaimed or at
least led away from evil life.

"Mr. Blake, I've been to see Lucy," went on Pan, and swiftly he talked
of the girl, her unhappiness, and the faith she still held in her
father. "I've come to get you out of here, for Lucy's sake. We're all
going to Arizona. You and Dad can make a new start in life."

"My God, if I only could," groaned the man.

Pan reached out with quick hand and shook him. "Listen," he said, low
and eagerly. "How long is this guard Mac New on duty?"

"Mac New? The fellow outside is called Hurd. He's on till midnight."

"All right, my mistake," went on Pan, swiftly. "I'll be here tonight
about eleven. I'll have a horse for you, blanket, grub, gun, and
money. I'll hold up this guard Hurd--get you out some way or other.
You're to ride away. Take the road south. There are other mining
camps. You'll not be followed. Make for Siccane, Arizona."

"Siccane, Arizona," echoed Blake, as a man in a dream of freedom.

"Yes, Siccane. Don't forget it. Stay there till we all come."

Pan straightened up, with deep expulsion o