oned himself into the blues, and I
had been waiting momentarily for one of his characteristic outbursts.
Yet nothing had occurred, and he was now in splendid trim. Possibly his
success in capturing so many hunters and boats had counteracted the
customary reaction. At any rate, the blues were gone, and the blue
devils had not put in an appearance. So I thought at the time; but, ah
me, little I knew him or knew that even then, perhaps, he was meditating
an outbreak more terrible than any I had seen.

As I say, he discovered himself in splendid trim when I entered the
cabin. He had had no headaches for weeks, his eyes were clear blue as
the sky, his bronze was beautiful with perfect health; life swelled
through his veins in full and magnificent flood. While waiting for me he
had engaged Maud in animated discussion. Temptation was the topic they
had hit upon, and from the few words I heard I made out that he was
contending that temptation was temptation only when a man was seduced by
it and fell.

"For look you," he was saying, "as I see it, a man does things because of
desire. He has many desires. He may desire to escape pain, or to enjoy
pleasure. But whatever he does, he does because he desires to do it."

"But suppose he desires to do two opposite things, neither of which will
permit him to do the other?" Maud interrupted.

"The very thing I was coming to," he said.

"And between these two desires is just where the soul of the man is
manifest," she went on. "If it is a good soul, it will desire and do the
good action, and the contrary if it is a bad soul. It is the soul that
decides."

"Bosh and nonsense!" he exclaimed impatiently. "It is the desire that
decides. Here is a man who wants to, say, get drunk. Also, he doesn't
want to get drunk. What does he do? How does he do it? He is a puppet.
He is the creature of his desires, and of the two desires he obeys the
strongest one, that is all. His soul hasn't anything to do with it. How
can he be tempted to get drunk and refuse to get drunk? If the desire to
remain sober prevails, it is because it is the strongest desire.
Temptation plays no part, unless--" he paused while grasping the new
thought which had come into his mind--"unless he is tempted to remain
sober.

"Ha! ha!" he laughed. "What do you think of that, Mr. Van Weyden?"

"That both of you are hair-splitting," I said. "The man's soul is his
desires. Or, if you will, the sum of his