At noon Jacky came in to dinner.  She had not seen her uncle since breakfast.  The old man had not returned from the settlement.  Truth to tell he wished to avoid his niece as much as possible for to-day.  As dinner-time came round he grew nervous and uncomfortable, and was half inclined to accept “old man” Smith’s invitation to dine at the saloon.  Then he realized that this would only alarm Jacky and set her thinking.  Therefore he plucked up the shattered remains of his moral courage and returned to the ranch.  When a man looses his last grip on his self-respect he sinks with cruel rapidity.  “Poker” John told himself that he was betraying his niece’s affection, and with this assurance he told himself that he was the lowest-down cur in the country.  The natural consequence to a man of his habit and propensity was—­drink.  The one time in his life when he should have refrained from indulgence he drank; and with each drink he made the fatal promise to himself that it should be the last.

When Jacky saw him swaying as he came up towards the house she could have cried out in very anguish.  It smote her to the heart to see the old man whom she so loved in this condition.  Yet when he lurched on to the veranda she smiled lovingly up into his face and gave no sign that she had any knowledge of his state.

“Come right along, uncle,” she said gayly, linking her arm within his, “dinner is on.  You must be good and hungry, you made such a poor breakfast this morning.”

“Yes, child, I wasn’t very well,” he mumbled thickly.  “Not very well—­now.”

“You poor dear, come along,” and she led him in through the open window.

During the meal Jacky talked incessantly.  She talked of everything but what had upset her uncle.  She avoided any reference to Lablache with great care.  But, in spite of her cheerfulness, she could not rouse the degenerate old man.  Rather it seemed that, as the meal progressed, he became gloomier.  The truth was the girl’s apparent light-heartedness added to his self-revilings and made him feel more criminal than ever.  He ate his food mechanically, and he drank glass after glass of ale.

Jacky heaved a sigh of relief when the meal was over.  She felt that she could not much longer have kept up her light-hearted talk.  Her uncle was about to move from the table.  The girl stayed him with a gesture.  He had eaten a good dinner and she was satisfied.  Now she would question him.

It is strange how a woman, in whatever relationship she may stand, loves to see a man eat well.  Possibly she understands the effect of a good dinner upon the man in whom she centers her affection; possibly it is the natural maternal instinct for his well-being.

“Uncle, what did Lablache come to see you for last night?”

The question was abrupt.  It had the effect of bringing the rancher back to his seat with a drunken lurch.

“Eh?” he queried, blinking nervously.