ware of the loud company. In Tucson he had been able to sit in the
smoke, and compass a cheerful deceit of appearance even to himself.
Choosing and buying the guitar had lent reality to his imitated peace of
mind; he had been careful over its strings, selecting such as Lolita
preferred, wrapt in carrying out this spiritual forgery of another
Genesmere. But here they had noticed him; appearances had slipped from
him. He listened to a piece of late Arizona news some one was in the
middle of telling--the trial of several Mormons for robbing a paymaster
near Cedar Springs. This was the fourth time he had heard the story,
because it was new; but the present narrator dwelt upon the dodgings of
a witness, a negress, who had seen everything and told nothing,
outwitting the government, furnishing no proofs. This brought Genesmere
quite back.

"No proofs!" he muttered. "No proofs!" He laughed and became alert. "She
lied to them good, did she?"

They looked at him, because he had not spoken for so long; and he was
told that she had certainly lied good.

"Fooled them clean through, did she? On oath! Tell about her."

The flattered narrator, who had been in court, gave all he knew, and
Genesmere received each morsel of perjury gravely with a nod. He sat
still when the story was done.

"Yes," he said, after a time. "Yes." And again, "Yes." Then he briefly
bade the boys good-night, and went out from the lamps and whiskey into
the dark.

He walked up and down alone, round the corral where his mules stood,
round the stable where his bed-blankets were; and one or two carousers
came by, who suggested further enjoyments to him. He went to the edge of
the town and walked where passers would not meet him, turning now and
then to look in the direction of Tucson, where the guitar was waiting.
When he felt the change of dawn he went to the stable, and by the first
early gray had his mules packed. He looked once again towards Tucson,
and took the road he had promised not to take, leaving the guitar behind
him altogether. His faith protested a little, but the other self
invented a quibble, the mockery that he had already "come by Tucson,"
according to his literal word; and this device answered. It is a comfort
to be divided no longer against one's self. Genesmere was at ease in his
thraldom to the demon with whom he had wrestled through the dark hours.
As the day brightened he wondered how he had come to fool a night away
over a promise su