That was all, yet better than a complete chapter it told the relation of the two men; the unquestioning confidence of the younger, the trace of almost patriarchal respect that never left his manner when, addressing the elder.  “If in my power, yes, sir.”

“It isn’t much I’m going to ask,” continued Landor hurriedly.  “It’s simply that you and Bess be married at once instead of waiting until the day set.”  Puff, puff went the pipe as though the speaker were uncertain whether or no to say more.  “I have a particular reason for wishing it,” he completed inadequately.

For a moment the Indian hesitated; but even then no question was voiced; there was no probing of the confidence the other preferred not to give.

“I will speak to Bess to-morrow if you wish,” he said.

Landor lit another match absently and held it to the already glowing bowl; then threw it away, unconscious of what he had done.

“Another thing,” he introduced hurriedly.  “I’m pretty strong now, but nevertheless I’m getting to be an old man, and so to-day while I was in town I had Bob Manning witness my will.  I know it’s all form, but I feel better to have things settled.”  With forced matter of factness he knocked the burned contents of the pipe into the grate and filled the bowl afresh.  “Mary isn’t used to having any responsibility, so I left practically everything to Bess.  I know that if anything should happen to me you’d take care of her mother.”

No answer, though Landor waited expectantly.

“I don’t need to ask your promise to be good to Bess.”  Very different from his usual peremptory self was the big rancher to-night, very obvious, pathetically so, his effort to appear natural.  “I know you’ll make her happy, my boy.”

Even yet there was no response, and the visitor shifted uncomfortably.  As well as he knew his own name he knew that his secret was secret no longer.  Yet with the instinct of the wild thing that hides itself to die alone he avoided direct mention of the fact, direct wording of the inevitable.  But something in the attitude of the motionless figure before him prevented further dissimulation.  Some influence urged him to hasten the denouement which he knew was but postponed.  With an effort he straightened in his seat and for the first time met the other’s black eyes steadily.

“I did right, don’t you think, How?” he questioned directly.

“Right, perhaps; I don’t know.”  A pause.  “What I do know is that I’m sorry you did as you did.”

“Sorry, How?”

“Yes, sir.  Very sorry.”

“And why?”

No answer.

The light from the tin reflector had been playing full upon the Indian’s face, and now, rising, he shifted it until the corner by the stove was in shadow.

“I will tell you why.”  He returned to his place and stretched himself as before, his hands locked beneath his head.  “You are a rich man, Mr. Landor, and Bess is human.  She doesn’t know what money is yet, but you will compel her to learn.  From what I have read and the little I have seen, I think she would be happier if she never knew.”