By heaven!" exclaimed Lord Nick. "I begin to be irritated to see you
stick on a silly point like this. Listen to me, lad. Do you mean to say
that you are making all! this trouble about a slip of a girl?"

"The heart of a girl," said Donnegan calmly.

"Let Landis go; then take her in your arms and kiss her worries away. I
warrant you can do it! I gather from Nell that you're not tongue-tied
around women!"

"I?" echoed Donnegan, turning pale. "Don't jest at this, Henry. I'm as
serious as death. She's the type of woman made to love one man, and one
man only. Landis may be common as dirt; but she doesn't see it. She's
fastened her heart on him. I looked in on her a little while ago. She
turned white when she saw me. I brought Landis to her, but she hates me
because I had to shoot him down."

"Garry," said the big man with a twinkle in his eye, "you're in love!"

It shook Donnegan to the core, but he replied instantly; "If I were in
love, don't you suppose that I would have shot to kill when I met
Landis?"

At this his brother blinked, frowned, and shook his head. The point was
apparently plain to him and wiped out his previous convictions. Also, it
eased his mind.

"Then you don't love the girl?"

"I?"

"Either way, my hands are cleared of the worry. If you want her, let me
take Landis. If you don't want her, what difference does it make to you
except silly sentiment?"

Donnegan made no answer.

"If she comes to Lebrun's house, I'll see that Nell doesn't bother him
too much."

"Can you control her? If she wants to see this fool can you keep her
away, and if she goes to him can you control her smiling?"

"Certainly," said Lord Nick, but he flushed heavily.

Donnegan smiled.

"She's a devil of a girl," admitted Henry Reardon. "But this is beside
the point: which is, that you're sticking on a matter that means
everything to me, and which is only a secondhand interest to you--a
point of sentiment. You pity the girl. What's pity? Bah! I pity a dog in
the street, but would I cross you, Garry, lad, to save the dog?
Sentiment, I say, silly sentiment."

Donnegan rose.

"It was a silly sentiment," he said hoarsely, "that put me on the road
following you, Henry. It was a silly sentiment that turned me into a
wastrel, a wanderer, a man without a home and without friends."

"It's wrong to throw that in my face," muttered Lord Nick.

"It is. And I'm sorry for it. But I want you to see that matters of
sentiment m