rectly to his companion,
"Do you know, old friend, I'm seriously thinking of selling out all my
interests and retiring. I've worked very hard--very hard. I'm getting
tired of it all. Sometimes I feel that rest would be good. I have
amassed a very large fortune, John--as you know."

The confidences of the money-lender were so unusual that "Poker" John,
in a dazed way, mildly wondered. The whisky had roused him a good deal
now, and he felt that it was good to talk like this. He felt that the
money-lender was a good fellow, and much better than he had thought. He
even experienced compunction for the opinions which, at times, he had
expressed of this old companion. Drink plays strange pranks with one's
better judgment at times. Lablache noted the effect of his words
carefully.

"Yes," said John, "you have worked hard--we have both worked hard. Our
lives have not been altogether without pleasure. The occasional game of
cards we have had together has always helped to relieve monotony, eh,
Lablache? Yes--yes. No one can say we have not earned rest. But
there--yes, you have been more fortunate than I. I could not retire."

Lablache raised his sparse eyebrows. Then he helped himself to some
whisky and pushed the bottle over to the other. When John had again
replenished his glass the money-lender solemnly raised his and waved it
towards the gray-headed old man. John responded unsteadily.

"How!"

"How!" replied the rancher.

Both men drank the old Indian toast. Simple honesty was in one heart,
while duplicity and low cunning filled the other.

"You could not retire?" said Lablache, when they had set their empty
glasses upon the desk.

"No--no," answered the other, shaking his head with ludicrous
mournfulness, "not retire; I have responsibilities--debts. You should
know. I must pay them off. I must leave Jacky provided for."

"Yes, of course. You must pay them off. Jacky should be your first
consideration."

Lablache pursed his sensual lips. His expression was one of deep
concern. Then he apparently fell into a reverie, during which John was
wondering how best to propose the longed-for game of cards. The other
roused himself before the desired means suggested itself to the old
gambler. And his efforts were cut short abruptly.

"Jacky ought to marry," Lablache said without preamble. "One never knows
what may happen. A good husband--a man with money and business capacity,
would be a great help to you, and would assure