bout an hour.

"Tommy, listen here. It wasn't until my train started and I looked back
and waved to him out of the window, that this low down game I've put
over on you occurred to me. All the time that we were chatting together,
I was worried, thinking about what I'd do and where I'd go, and how it
would be on the first Monday in August when those pen and ink sleuths
got the goods on me. I could just see them going over my ledger, Slady.

"Well, I looked out of the car window and there stood Barnard, and the
sun was just going down, Tommy, just like you and I have watched it do
night after night up here, and that red hair of his was just shining in
the light. It came to me just like that, Slady," Thornton said,
clapping his hands, "and I said to myself, I'm like that chap in _one_
way, anyhow, and he and this fellow Slade have _never seen each other_.
Why can't _I_ go up to that lonely camp in the mountains and be Billy
Barnard for a while? Why can't I lie low there till I can plan what to
do next? That's what I said, Slady. Wouldn't a place like that be better
than New York? Maybe you'll say I took a long chance--reckless. That's
the way it is with red hair, Slady. I took a chance on you being easy
and it worked out, that's all. Or rather, I mean it _didn't_, for I feel
like a murderer, and it's all on account of you, Slady.

"I didn't know what to do, I didn't know where to go; I just wanted to
get away from home before the game was up and they nabbed me. It's no
fun being pinched, Tom. I thought I might make the visit that this
friend of yours was going to make, and hang around here where it's quiet
and lonesome, till it was time for him to come. I guess that's about as
far as my plans carried. It was a crazy idea, I see that well enough
now. But I was rattled--I was just rattled, that's all. I thought that
when the time came that I'd have to leave here, maybe I could tramp up
north further and change my name again and get a job on some farm or
other, till I could earn a little and make good. What I didn't figure on
was the kind of a fellow I was going to meet. I--I----" he stammered,
trying to control himself in a burst of feeling and clutching Tom's
knee, "I--I didn't put it over on you, Tom; maybe it seems that way to
you--but--but I didn't. It's you that win, old man--can't you see? It's
_you_ that win. You've put it all over _me_ and rubbed it in,
and--and--instead of getting away with anything--like I thought-