l influence men took
other lives or lost their own; he had slain one innocent man, Vic's own
father, and in the room where his dead mother lay had robbed Vic's home
of every valuable thing. He had sworn vengeance on all who bore the
name of Burleigh. What fate might await Bug, Vic dared not picture. One
strangling grip now could finish the business forever, and his clutch
tightened, as Gresh lay begging like a coward for his own worthless
life.

"It's a good thing a fellow has a guardian angel once in a while. We
get pretty close to the edge sometimes and never know how near we are to
destruction," Vic had said to Elinor in here on the April day.

It was not Vic's guardian angel, but little Bug whose white face was
thrust between him and his victim, and the touch of a soft little hand
and the pleading child-voice that cried:

"Don't kill him, Vic. He's frough of fighting now. Don't hurt him no
more."

Vic staid his hand at the words. The few minutes of this mad-beast duel
had made him forget the sound of human voices. He half lifted himself
from Gresh's body at Bug's cry. And Bug, wise beyond his years,
quaint-minded little Bug, said, softly:

"Fordive us our debts as we fordive our debtors."

Strange, loving words of the Man of Galilee, spoken on the mountain-side
long, long ago, and echoed now by childish lips in the dying light of
the cavern to these two men, drunk with brute-lust for human blood! For
Vic the words struck like blows. All the years since his father's death
he had waited for this hour. At last he had met and vanquished the man
who had taken his father's life, and now, exultant in his victory, came
this little child's voice.

The cave darkened. A mist, half blood, half blindness, came before his
eyes, but clear to his ears there sounded the ringing words:

"Vengeance is mine; I will repay!"

It was the voice of Discipline calling to his better judgment, as Bug's
innocent pleading spoke to the finer man within him.

Under his grip Gresh lay motionless, all power of resistance threshed
out of him.

"Are you ready to quit?" Vic questioned, hoarsely, bending over the
almost lifeless form.

The outlaw mumbled assent.

"Then I'll let you live, you miserable wretch, and the courts will take
care of you."

Burleigh himself was faint from strife and loss of blood. As he relaxed
his vigilance the last atom of strength, the last hope of escape
returned to Gresh. He sprang to his feet, staggered