answering; took also a large
portion of fine cut and stowed it away in his cheek.

"Well, son," said he gently, "it would depend a lot on which the
fellow cared the most for--the race track or the girl."

The Kid flung the cigarette from him and looked up, meeting the old
man's eyes for the first time. "I beat you to it, old-timer! Win or
lose, I'm through at the end of this meeting. There's a fellow over
in Butte just about my age. He was a hustler too, and a pal of mine,
but two years ago he quit, and now he's got a little gents'
furnishing-goods place--nothing swell, of course, but the business is
growing all the time. He's been after me to come in with him on a
percentage of the profits, and last night I wrote him to look for me
when they get done running here. That part of it is settled. No more
race track in mine. But that ain't what I was getting at. Have I got
to tell the girl what I've been doing the last five years?"

"Would you rather have her find out from some one else, Frank?"

"No-o."

"If you want to start clean, son, the best place to begin is with the
girl."

"But what if she throws me down?"

"That's the chance you'll have to take. You've been taking 'em all
your life."

"Yes, but nothing ever meant as much to me as this does."

"Well, son, the more a woman cares for a man the more she'll
forgive."

"Did Solomon say that?" demanded the Kid suspiciously.

"No, _I_ said it. You see, Frank, it was this way with Solomon: he
had a thousand wives, more or less, and I reckon he never had time to
strike a general average. He wrote a lot 'bout women, first and last,
but it seems he only remembered two kinds--the ones that was too good
to live and the ones that wasn't worth killin'. It would have been
more helpful to common folks if he'd said something 'bout the general
run of women. You'd better tell her, Frank."

The Bald-faced Kid sighed.

"I'd rather take a licking. You're sure about that forgiving
business, old-timer?"

"It's the one best bet, my son."

"Pull for it to go through, then. Good night--and thank you."

Left alone, Old Man Curry turned the pages for a time, then read
aloud:

"'There be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four
which I know not: The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a
serpent upon a rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea, and
the way of a man with a maid--_the way of a man with a maid_.' Well,
after all, the straight way is the