unt Olive has told me
of that--that little affair of yours which ended so--well so happily
tragical, and it has made you seem more human. Of course there could
have been no better way out for you and--her, and Uncle Levi was a
brick to overlook it. I've liked him better for it, but my affair is
another matter."

Sandy gazed dumbly at Treadwell and could not frame words to call the
other to a halt. Not comprehending what Lans knew or misunderstood,
having no intention of explaining--he simply stared and then turned to
mend the fire.

"My affair--is different. You know about it--partially?"

"I've heard something. It was none of my business." A sternness crept
into Sandy's voice which Treadwell entirely misunderstood.

"Well, because it was possible for me to come to you; because of all my
friends, you seemed in this hour of trouble, the only one I _could_
come to, I want you to make it your business, Sand."

The low-pitched, pleading voice awoke sympathy. It was that tone and
manner which had caused people to straighten out the snarls of Lans
Treadwell's life from babyhood up. There was capitulation. It was as
if he had said: "I deserve no pity, no comfort, but--give them to me!"
It awoke all the spontaneous desire for his happiness in every
tender-hearted person who knew and liked him.

"I'm not indifferent, Lans. I only meant that in your friendship and
mine there have always been reservations. You took me up because of
your generous friendliness; you helped me mightily. I never felt the
slightest inclination to penetrate into your private life, and my own
was of such a nature that I was obliged to live it alone. My years
away from the mountains were years of preparation to come back. Every
hand held out to me was but a power to help me on my course. I have
never--except recently with the Markhams--ever taken anything
personally. I have always recognized that I was called to serve my
people; I have been grateful, but I have never appropriated."

Treadwell looked hard at the fine, dark face touched now to vivid
beauty by the rich glow of the fire.

"And I know few fellows who have won out as you have," he said
admiringly. "You have that in you, about you, that attracts and
compels. People trust you, like you--need you when a pinch comes."

"Thank you, Lans."

"And God knows I want you, need you, now!"

Sandy put out his hand, Treadwell gripped it, then both leaned back in
their chairs and