sir. It is really a great swelling at the
back of the jaws on either side of the neck. This swelling is made by
the poison bags which communicate with their hollow fangs. You'll see
if you shoot the big gentleman I saw crawling back into his hole this
morning. I dare say he's out again now, to be in the hot sun. Why,
what's the matter, Master Nic?"

"Matter?"

"Yes, sir; you keep going off in a dreamy way, and not listening."

Nic frowned and was silent.

"I beg your pardon, sir; it is like my impertinence to ask you. I
forget sometimes, when you are ready to treat me like a human being,
that I am only a convict."

"Don't take it like that," said Nic hurriedly. "It was only because I
was thinking, Leather."

"Yes, sir, I see: some little trouble at home."

"Oh, no!" cried Nic, ready to blurt out everything now. "You see I like
you, Leather."

The man's eyes flashed and then softened for a moment, while his lips
quivered; but his hard, cynical, bitter aspect and tones came back--the
manner born of years of misery and degradation, and he cried mockingly:

"Why? Because I behaved like a brute to you, and made believe to throw
you down into that gully?"

"Don't bring that up," cried Nic angrily; "and don't talk in that way,
Leather. It isn't you. It's only put on."

"Indeed," said the man bitterly. "Well, I didn't put it on, sir. It
was fate."

"There, I didn't like to speak to you," continued Nic; "but I must now.
I've long wanted to, for of course I can't help seeing how different you
are from Brookes and old Sam. You are always showing me that you are a
man of good education, and what a deal you know. It makes me ashamed
sometimes."

"Why?" said Leather sternly.

"To ask you to do all kinds of rough work when I feel that you are
better educated than I am--that you must have been quite a gentleman."

"Ah, don't, boy!" cried Leather passionately, and with his face
convulsed. "For Heaven's sake hold your tongue."

"I can't now," cried Nic, as excitedly. "I feel as if I must know. I
do like you, Leather--I do really; and it worries me. I think of it at
night when I go to bed, and it makes me wild to hear Brookes talk to you
as he does."

"Brookes is an honest man, sir; I'm a convict," said Leather bitterly.

"There you are, going back to your old way!" cried Nic; "and it isn't
fair, after I've told you I liked you."

The convict caught the boy's hand, and his eyes softened again; b