But he pushed his crowding thoughts away, for he was standing before her--pale, mute and almost foolish.

He bowed, not daring to raise his eyes to hers lest she should recognise him. But he need not have feared on that score, for to her he was merely the clean-cut outline of a shadow;--but even had it not been so, the difference between the young, beardless man before her and the haggard, broken convict whom she had befriended that night was greater by far than Phil even could have imagined.

Fortunately for his peace of mind, a sudden cry from the stable burst in on the momentary quietness.

Eileen turned her head quickly, then she ran over to her father anxiously and held his arms.

"Dad,--what is that?"

"Hush, dearie!--it's Hanson."

"But--but where is he?" she asked.

"In the barn, tied up good and tight,--quite safe."

"But it isn't right, daddy, to tie a man up like that. He's not a beast, and he's a kind-hearted decent fellow when he is well."

"When he is well, Eilie,--yes! But he isn't well. Better for him that we tie him up for a day every once in a while, than confine him in a lunatic asylum for the term of his natural life. That is what would have to be otherwise."

"Don't you think he might be better now, daddie?" she pleaded.

"Yes!--I guess he is getting pretty nearly wised up now. He has stopped his swearing and yelling. That's a good sign. That last cry of his was the first for half an hour. You run along home, girlie, and Phil and I will go in and see how he is."

"You won't keep him tied up there all night, dad?"

"Not unless I can't help it, Eilie."

She pouted and stamped her foot impatiently.

"I just won't go home till you tell me for sure. I couldn't sleep if I thought a man was roped up all night like he is now."

Her father smiled indulgently.

"Foolish little woman! You sleep other nights, yet every minute of the days and nights you live there are men all over the world who, both literally and metaphorically, are chained, and roped, and lashed, and dungeoned; men whose lives are a racking agony, to whom day and night are alike--all night--men who have no prospect of relief to-morrow, whose only release is death, and the release they long and pray for seems never to come. And many of them are men who have done no wrong, unless it be wrong to offend a potentate, to have an opinion of your own, to have the courage to express it; to object to laws and customs which should have been sc.r.a.pped a thousand years ago.

"Hanson there knows his weakness. He has asked and begged us, in his sober moments, to be sure to do this very thing to him as a personal kindness. To-morrow his heart will be flooding with grat.i.tude to know that he has got through with it without doing anyone any harm."

"Yes, daddie, yes! But won't you go to see if he cannot be released to-night?" she pleaded.

"Sure, girlie, if it will please you. Wait here!"

The st.u.r.dy smith took down the key from a nail in the wall and went out.

Eileen switched her attention to Phil.

"Have you been long in the Valley, Mr. Ralston?"

Phil was afraid of his voice, so he answered in a deeper intonation than was his usual.

"Just a few days, miss."

"And you're a blacksmith?"

"Not yet, Miss Pederstone!" Phil grinned to himself and felt slightly more confident. "I hope to be, some day."

Eileen seemed surprised.

"Haven't you been blacksmithing before? Why, my father started to learn his trade when he was fourteen years old."

"Do I seem so terribly old then?" asked Phil.

"Oh, no!--not that exactly, but old to be starting in to learn a trade. Sol Hanson isn't so very much older than you can be, but he has been a journeyman smith ever since I have known him." She stopped.

"Oh, I don't know----You mustn't mind what I say, Mr. Ralston. I guess I am a bit of a silly. I let my foolish tongue run away with me at times. I just say what I feel; just what comes to my mind."

"If everyone did that," remarked Phil, "we should have less dissension in the world."

"And we would make lots of enemies," she put in.

"We might offend those we think are our friends, and we might alarm each other by mirroring our tremendous deficiencies, but, in the finish, it would make for sincerity and truthfulness--two qualities of nature sadly in the background nowadays. Don't you agree with me?"

"Of course you are right!" said Eileen, "but you talk so earnestly one would almost imagine that you had suffered at some time through the insincerity and untruthfulness of one you had trusted."

This was getting too near home for Phil.

"None of us have to live very long to do that. I have often thought, though, that if, when we looked into the mirror, we could see our natures as well as our reflected features, our conceit would suffer a severe shock."

"A woman, maybe!" said Eileen, "but nothing can ever cure mortal man of his conceit."

"You think a man more conceited than a woman?"

"a.s.suredly!"

Phil laughed, and the laugh rang in his own natural tone.

Eileen Pederstone stopped. Her brows wrinkled as if some little chord of memory had suddenly been struck.

Phil also dropped back into an awkward silence.

A noise outside roused both of them, and Royce Pederstone crossed the yard, followed by Hanson. The latter refused to come inside when he knew Miss Pederstone was there.

"Better run home, Eilie,--out the front way!"

"Is he all right, daddy?"

"Yes,--back to normal."

"Oh, I'm so glad. You won't be long?"

"Fifteen minutes!"