is innate force. Three things,
however, had attracted me to him in our brief meeting at Topeka: his
voice, though low, had a thrill of power in it; his hand-clasp was firm
and full of meaning; and when I looked into his blue eyes I recalled the
words which the Earl of Kent said to King Lear:

"You have that in your countenance which I would fain call master."

And when King Lear asked, "What's that?" Kent replied, "Authority."

[Illustration: Every movement of ours had been watched by Indian scouts]

It was in Morton's face. Although he was not more than a dozen years my
senior, I instinctively looked upon him as a leader of men, and he
became then and has always since been one of my manhood's ideals.

"I'm glad to see you, Baronet. Come in." He grasped my hand firmly and
led the way into the house. I sat down wearily in the chair he offered
me. It was well that I had walked the last stage of my journey. Had I
been twenty-four hours later I should have missed him, and this one
story of the West might never have been told.

The inside of the cabin was what one would expect to find in a
Plainsman's home who had no one but himself to consider.

While I rested he prepared our supper. Disappointment in love does not
always show itself in the appetite, and I was as hungry as a coyote. All
day new sights and experiences had been crowding in upon me. The
exhilaration of the wild Plains was beginning to pulse in my veins. I
had come into a strange, untried world. The past, with its broken ties
and its pain and loss, must be only a memory that at my leisure I might
call back; but here was a different life, under new skies, with new
people. The sunset lights, the gray evening shadows, and the dip and
swell of the purple distances brought their heartache; but now I was
hungry, and Morton was making johnny cakes and frying bacon; wild plums
were simmering on the fire, and coffee was filling the room with the
rarest of all good odors vouchsafed to mortal sense.

At the supper table my host went directly to my case by asking, "Have
you come out here to prospect or to take hold?"

"To take hold," I answered.

"Are you tired after your journey?" he queried.

"I? No. A night's sleep will fix me." I looked down at my strong arms,
and stalwart limbs.

"You sleep well?" His questions were brief.

"I never missed but one night in twenty-one years, except when I sat up
with a sick boy one Summer," I replied.

"When was that on