onishment was in his voice as he felt a rope
across his arms and chest.

"To keep you in bed."

"I been--loony?"

She nodded.

He looked at her quizzically.

"Emptied my sack?"

"You've talked."

He lay motionless, staring at her fixedly; then, as if arriving at a
conclusion:

"Guess I didn't say much."

"You said plenty," significantly.

"But not enough, eh?" he jeered.

She regarded him silently.

"Where am I, anyhow?"

"In my camp."

"Oh." He considered a moment, then mocked, "Got religion?"

"Not yet," curtly.

"Jest wanted me close? Ol' friends are the best friends--ain't they?" He
grinned weakly at her.

"Pete," slowly, "there are some questions I want to ask you."

"Thought it was about time for the pumps to start. What do you want to
know?"

Kate's heart leaped. She endeavored to steady her voice, to keep out of
her face the eagerness with which she trembled, as she replied:

"I want to know who my father is--where he is, if he's alive. Oh, Pete!"
Her hands came together beseechingly, "Tell me that--I beg of you tell
me about him."

Satisfaction glistened in his eyes.

"I thought that would be it! The only civil words I ever got out of you
when you was a kid was when you hoped to make me loosen up and talk to
you about him." Then he asked again with an expression she could not
interpret, "You're sure you'd ruther I give up that than anything else
on earth?"

"Yes, Pete!" she gulped. "It means so much to me."

"I guess yes. The ground wouldn't be good enough for your feet if the
'Old Man' had you."

"Is that the truth? He'd care for me like that? Oh, Pete!"

"Care? He'd worship you. Them Prouty folks would bite themselves if they
could see your Old Man," he chuckled faintly.

"He is still living, then? Oh, Pete!" She extended two pleading hands
impulsively, "Don't make me wait!"

Something other than fever glittered in his eyes, and there was more
than satisfaction in his voice when he said:

"That's somethin' like it--somethin'--not quite! It's sweeter nor music
to hear you beg. But, damn you, you ain't humble enough yet!"

"What do you want me to do?" she cried. "I'll--I'll get down on my
knees, if only you'll tell me what I want to know!"

"That's it!" in shrill excitement. "Get down on your knees. I ain't
forgot that you called me a 'nigger' once, and hit me with a quirt.
It'll kinda wipe it out to see you crawlin' to Pete, that you always
treated like dirt. Git do