"That's what I want to tell you, Hathaway, and how I, and I alone,
am responsible for it. When the bank was in difficulty and I made
up my mind to guard the Trust with my own personal and private
capital, I knew that there might be some comment on my action. It
was a delicate matter to show any preference or exclusion at such a
moment, and I took two or three of my brother directors whom I
thought I could trust into my confidence. I told them the whole
story, and how the Trust was sacred. I made a mistake, sir,"
continued Pendleton sardonically, "a grave mistake. I did not take
into account that even in three years civilization and religion had
gained ground here. There was a hound there--a blank Judas in the
Trust. Well; he didn't see it. I think he talked Scripture and
morality. He said something about the wages of sin being infamous,
and only worthy of confiscation. He talked about the sins of the
father being visited upon the children, and justly. I stopped him.
Well! Do you know what's the matter with my ankle? Look!" He
stopped and, with some difficulty and invincible gravity, throwing
aside his dressing-gown, turned down his stocking, and exposed to
Paul's gaze the healed cicatrix of an old bullet-wound. "Troubled
me damnably near a year. Where I hit HIM--hasn't troubled him at
all since!

"I think," continued the colonel, falling back upon the pillow with
an air of relief, "that he told others--of his own kidney, sir,--
though it was a secret among gentlemen. But they have preferred to
be silent now--than AFTERWARDS. They know that I'm ready. But I
can't keep this up long; some time, you know, they're bound to
improve in practice and hit higher up! As far as I'm concerned,"
he added, with a grim glance around the faded walls and threadbare
furniture, "it don't mind; but mine isn't the mouth to be stopped."