“I did.”

“Well, apart from yourself, and what I saw in you, there were four things which influenced my judgment.  I only thought of one until I met you last night.”

“And what are they?” Weston was keenly interested.

“First of all, I could not imagine that a man would burn a fellow-being alive who kept that near him,” and Reynolds motioned to a book lying upon the desk.

Weston turned, and his face brightened.

“Oh, you mean the Bible.  So that was one of your reasons, eh?  But do you not know that the deepest-dyed villain often keeps the Bible close at hand?  Such a man is generally fearful as well as superstitious, and so considers the Bible as a charm to ward off evil.  It has been said, you remember, that the devil himself can quote Scripture for his own purpose.  I venture to say that his satanic majesty knows the Bible better than many professing Christians.  It is necessary for him to do so in order to answer the arguments it sets forth.  Perhaps that is the way with me.  Anyway, we shall dismiss that evidence as faulty.  What next?”

“Your daughter, sir.  I cannot believe that any man is a downright villain who is fortunate enough to have such a daughter.”

“I see, I see,” and Weston stroked his heavy moustache.  “Did you not say something of a similar nature last night?  But are you aware that a man may have a noble daughter, and still be a villain?  Facts of history bear out what I say, unless I am greatly mistaken.”

“That may have been true in some cases, sir,” Reynolds replied.  “However, I am not concerned about the past, but the present only.  No matter what you may say to the contrary, you will not convince me.  And besides, there is something else which hinges upon this reason.”

“And what is that?”

“You are very fond of your daughter, are you not?”

“Certainly.  She is all I have in the world, and she is dearer to me than life itself.”

“Just so,” and Reynolds smiled.  “And for her sake, at least, you would not dare to burn any man alive.”

“Wouldn’t dare!  Why not?”

“Simply because you would be hunted down as a murderer, and hung.  Why, the Mounted Police would have had you in their clutches long before this.”

“They would, eh?  What do I care about law?  Am I not a law unto myself?”

“In a way you are, so long as you do not commit any crime.  But even though you might not care about yourself, you would not dare to do anything wrong for your daughter’s sake.  She means so much to you, that you would not dare to commit any desperate act for fear of disgracing her.  Is not that so?”

Weston made no reply, but sat looking intently into Reynolds’ face.

“There is another reason,” the latter continued, “to which I feel certain you can make no objection, and it is that.”

He pointed as he spoke to a framed picture hanging above the desk.  It was the face of a woman of remarkable beauty, and closely resembling Glen, although somewhat older.