Ravenslee passed back the pencilled scrawl and Spike, bending his head low, read it through again.

“I guess I’ve just got t’ be good,” he murmured, “for her sake.  Oh, Geoff,” he cried suddenly, “I’d die for her!”

“Better live for her, Spike, and be the honourable, clean man she wishes.”

“She sure thinks you’re some man, Geoff!  I guess she’s—­kind o’—­fond of you.”

“That’s what I’ve come to talk about, Spike.”

“Are you—­fond of her, Geoff?”

“Fond!” exclaimed Ravenslee, forgetting to drawl, “I’m so fond—­I love her so much—­I honour her so deeply that I want her for my wife.”

“Wife?” exclaimed Spike, starting to his feet, his eyes suddenly radiant, “d’ye mean you’ll marry her?”

“If she will honour me so far, Spike.”

“Marry her!  You’ll marry her!” Spike repeated.

“As soon as she’ll let me!”

“Geoff—­oh, Geoff,” exclaimed the boy, and choking, turned away.

“Won’t you congratulate me?”

“I can’t yet,” gasped Spike; “I can’t till I’ve told ye what a mean guy I’ve been.”

“What about?”

“About you—­and Hermy.  Bud said you meant t’ make her go the way—­little Maggie Finlay went, an’—­oh, Geoff, I—­I kind of believed him.”

“Did you, Spike—­that foul beast?  But you don’t believe it any longer, and M’Ginnis is—­only M’Ginnis, after all.”

“But I—­I’ve got to tell you more,” said the lad miserably, as meeting Ravenslee’s eye with an effort, he went on feverishly.  “The other night after—­after Bud slipped me the—­the stuff an’ I’d had a—­a drink or two, he began askin’ all about you.  At first I blocked and side-stepped all his questions, but he kep’ on at me, an’ at last I—­I give you away, Geoff—­” Here Spike paused breathlessly and cast an apprehensive glance toward his hearer, but finding him silent and serene as ever he repeated: 

“I—­gave you away, Geoff!”

“Did you, Spike?”

“Yes, I—­I told him who you really are!”

“Did you, Spike?”

“Yes!  Yes!  Oh, Geoff, don’t you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Well, why don’t ye say something?  Why don’t ye tell me what I am?  Say I’m a dirty sneak—­call me a yeller cur—­anything!”

“No, you were drunk, that’s all; and when the drink is in, honour, and all that makes a man, is out—­you were only drunk.”

“Oh, but I wasn’t s’ drunk as all that,” gasped Spike, cowering in his chair, “but he kep’ on comin’ at me with his questions, an’ at last—­when I told him how I met up with you—­he kind o’ give a jump—­an’ his face—­” Spike clenched his fists and, slowly raising them, pressed them upon his eyes.  “I’ll never forget th’ look on—­his face!  So now you know as I’ve blown th’ game on ye—­given ye away—­you as was my friend!” With the word Spike sobbed and fell grovelling on his knees.  “Curse me, Geoff!” he cried.  “Oh, curse me, an’ tell me what I am!”