have won, Helen; I know that I have won.
To-day Patches, the cowboy, can look any man in the face. He can take
his place and hold his own among men of any class anywhere. I have
regained that of which the circumstances of birth and inheritance and
training robbed me. I have won the right of a man to come to you again.
I claim that right now, Helen. I tell you again that I love you. I love
you as--"

"Larry! Larry!" she cried, springing to her feet, and drawing away from
him, as though suddenly awakened from some strange spell. "Larry, you
must not! What do you mean? How can you say such things to me?"

He answered her with reckless passion. "I say such things because I am a
man, and because you are the woman I love and want; because--"

She cried out again in protest. "Oh, stop, stop! Please stop! Don't you
know?"

"Know what?" he demanded.

"My--my husband!" she gasped. "Stanford Manning--we are here on our
honeymoon."

She saw him flinch as though from a heavy blow, and put out his hand to
the trunk of a tree near which they stood, to steady himself. He did not
speak, but his lips moved as though he repeated her words to himself,
over and over again; and he gazed at her with a strange bewildered,
doubting look, as though he could not believe his own suffering.

Impulsively Helen went a step toward him. "Larry!" she said. "Larry!"

Her voice seemed to arouse him and he stood erect as though by a
conscious effort of will. Then that old self-mocking smile was on his
lips. He was laughing at his hurt--making sport of himself and his cruel
predicament.

But to Helen there was that in his smile which wrung her woman heart.
"Oh, Larry," she said gently. "Forgive me; I am so sorry; I--"

He put out his hand with a gesture of protest, and his voice was calm
and courteous. "I beg your pardon, Helen. It was stupid of me not to
have understood. I forgot myself for the moment. It was all so
unexpected--meeting you like this. I did not think." He looked away
toward his waiting horse and to the steer lying on the ground. "So you
and Stanford Manning--Good old Stan! I am glad for him. And for you,
too, Helen. Why, it was I who introduced him to you; do you remember?"

He smiled again that mirthless, self-mocking smile, as he added without
giving her time to speak, "If you will excuse me for a moment, I will
rid your camp of the unwelcome presence of that beast yonder." Then he
went toward his horse, as though turning fo