what kind of a sacrifice she has
made for you, you ought to accept it, Boyd."

"I want to accept it; every impulse in me says to go in and grab. Polly,
hell-fire is blazing inside of me. I want to tear them down--the whole
of them. I do! You needn't jump! But if I use those papers which that
girl has stolen from her father I'll be a dirty whelp. You know it, and
I know it! Suppose you should tell me some secret about your own father
so I could use it to cheat him out of his share of our partnership? You
might mean all right, but after I had used it you would hate me! Now
wouldn't you?"

"Perhaps--probably I wouldn't hate you," she stammered. "But I'd think
more of you if you--yes, I'm sure I'd think more of you if you didn't
take advantage of my foolishness."

"That's it, exactly! Any man, if I told him about this situation, would
say that I'm a fool not to use every tool I can get hold of. But
you understand better! I'm glad I came to talk with you. I have been
dreadfully tempted. Your advice is keeping me straight!"

"I have not advised you, Boyd!"

"You don't need to use words! It's your instinct telling me what is
right to do. You wouldn't think it was a square deal for me to use these
papers, would you?"

"If you love her so much that you're willing to sacrifice yourself and
your work and--"

"Say it, Polly! I'm sacrificing your father, too! It's for a notion--not
much else!"

"No, it must be because you love her so much. You are afraid she will
think less of you if you take advantage of her. I think your stand is
noble, Boyd!"

"I don't! I think it's infernal foolishness, and I wish the Mayo breed
didn't have so much of that cursed stiff-necked conscience! Our family
wouldn't be where it is to-day." He spoke with so much heat that she
turned-wondering eyes on him.

"But it's for her sake, Boyd! It's--"

"Nothing of the sort! That is, it isn't as you think it is."

"I only think you love her."

"I don't want you to say that--or believe it!" he raved. "If you only
knew--if I could tell you--you'd see that it's insulting my common sense
to say that I'm in love with Alma Marston. I don't love her! I--I don't
know just where I stand. I don't know what's the matter with me. I'm in
the most damnable position a man can be in. And I'm talking like a fool.
Isn't that so?"

"I don't understand you," she faltered.

"Of course you don't. I reckon I'm a lunatic. I'll be rolling over here
and biting the gras