r were strangers, evil
deeds are easily done in such places, and no tales told. But he would
not desert the boy, and still kept watch of every card till he plainly
detected false play, and boldly said so. High words passed, Dan's
indignation overcame his prudence; and when the cheat refused to restore
his plunder with insulting words and drawn pistol, Dan's hot temper
flashed out, and he knocked the man down with a blow that sent him
crashing head first against a stove, to roll senseless and bleeding to
the floor. A wild scene followed, but in the midst of it Dan whispered
to the boy: 'Get away, and hold your tongue. Don't mind me.'

Frightened and bewildered, Blair quitted the city at once, leaving Dan
to pass the night in the lock-up, and a few days later to stand in court
charged with manslaughter; for the man was dead. Dan had no friends, and
having once briefly told the story, held his peace, anxious to keep all
knowledge of this sad affair from those at home. He even concealed his
name--giving that of David Kent, as he had done several times before in
emergencies. It was all over very soon; but as there were extenuating
circumstances his sentence was a year in prison, with hard labour.

Dazed by the rapidity with which this horrible change in his life came
upon him, Dan did not fully realize it till the iron door clanged behind
him and he sat alone in a cell as narrow, cold, and silent as a tomb. He
knew that a word would bring Mr Laurie to help and comfort him; but he
could not bear to tell of this disgrace, or see the sorrow and the shame
it would cause the friends who hoped so much for him.

'No,' he said, clenching his fist, 'I'll let them think me dead first.
I shall be if I am kept here long'; and he sprang up to pace the stone
floor like a caged lion, with a turmoil of wrath and grief, rebellion
and remorse, seething in heart and brain, till he felt as if he should
go mad and beat upon the walls that shut him away from the liberty which
was his life. For days he suffered terribly, then worn out, sank into a
black melancholy sadder to see than his excitement.

The warden of this prison was a rough man who had won the ill will of
all by unnecessary harshness, but the chaplain was full of sympathy, and
did his hard duty faithfully and tenderly. He laboured with poor Dan,
but seemed to make no impression, and was forced to wait till work had
soothed the excited nerves and captivity tamed the proud spirit that