penalty, Covington," Gorham replied. "You,
who have destroyed the way-marks to misguide others, now find yourself
adrift because of your own act. You are a young man. If you are honest
in what you now say, there is still hope for you. Fight those
overpowering ambitions which have brought you to the brink until you
have them properly controlled, then guide your undoubted abilities along
lines which men recognize as true."

Covington bowed his head, and without a word disappeared. As the outer
door closed Alice turned to her father, but her thought was not of the
man who had passed from their lives.

"You were that prospector, daddy? Why did you never tell Eleanor?"

"I have tried to make her recognize me ever since we were married, dear.
I have tried to make her tell me the story, hoping that the repetition
might recall in her heart some association which would link me with that
past, sad as it was to her. You never knew, Alice, of that experience
when I went West in search of health, but now you know why I hurried
back to Denver; why I kept myself constantly informed regarding the
recovery and later life of this little woman who came into my heart
during those days when she was passing through her agony. I loved her
then, but she was another man's wife. I knew when the court gave her
back her freedom, and I lost no time in winning her at the first
opportunity which offered."

"How could I have recognized you, ill as I was then,--and without your
old prospector's clothes and your full beard? You should have told me."

"I wanted your love, dear heart, not your gratitude."

She tenderly pushed back the gray hair from the high forehead, and
pressed her lips against it reverently.

"You have both, Robert,--you have always had them."

XXX

Sanford located Allen's apartment from the address Gorham had given him.
He stood before the entrance for several moments, regarding its
pretentious appearance and the aristocratic neighborhood.

"Gorham must have made a mistake," he muttered; "this can't be the
place."

But the handsome Gothic figures over the doorway corresponded with those
written upon the slip of paper, so he approached the elevator boy,
resplendent in his brass buttons.

"Does Mr. Allen Sanford live here?" he demanded.

"Yes, sir; eighth floor. What name shall I say, sir?"

"You needn't say any name,--I'll say it myself. I'm his father. Rents
must be cheaper than they used to be," he remarked t