ess
added to his self-revilings and made him feel more criminal than ever.
He ate his food mechanically, and he drank glass after glass of ale.

Jacky heaved a sigh of relief when the meal was over. She felt that she
could not much longer have kept up her light-hearted talk. Her uncle was
about to move from the table. The girl stayed him with a gesture. He had
eaten a good dinner and she was satisfied. Now she would question him.

It is strange how a woman, in whatever relationship she may stand, loves
to see a man eat well. Possibly she understands the effect of a good
dinner upon the man in whom she centers her affection; possibly it is
the natural maternal instinct for his well-being.

"Uncle, what did Lablache come to see you for last night?"

The question was abrupt. It had the effect of bringing the rancher back
to his seat with a drunken lurch.

"Eh?" he queried, blinking nervously.

"What did he come for?" Jacky persisted.

The girl could be relentless even with her uncle.

"Lablache--oh--er--talk bus--bus'ness, child--bus'ness," and he
attempted to get up from his chair again.

But Jacky would not let him go.

"Wait a moment, uncle dear, I want to talk to you. I sha'n't keep you
long." The old man looked anywhere but at his companion. A cold sweat
was on his forehead, and his cheek twitched painfully under the steady
gaze of the girl's somber eyes. "I don't often get a chance of talking
to you now," she went on, with a slight touch of bitterness. "I just
want to talk about that skunk, Lablache. I guess he didn't pass the
evening talking of Retief--and what he intends to do towards his
capture? Say, uncle, what was it about?"

The old man grasped at the suggestion.

"Yes--yes, child. It was Retief."

He kept his eyes averted. The girl was not deceived.

"All the time?"

"Poker" John remained silent. He would have lied but could not.

"Uncle!"

Her tone was a moral pressure. The old man turned for relief to his
avuncular authority.

"I must go. You've no right--question me," he stuttered. "I refu--"

"No, uncle, you won't refuse me." The girl had risen and had moved round
to where the old man sat. She fondled him lovingly and his attempt at
angry protest died within him. "Come, dear, tell me all about it. You
are worried and I can help you. What did he threaten you with? I
suppose he wants money," contemptuously. "How much?"

The old drunkard was powerless to resist her loving appeal.