"I dog no one, Mr. Temple," I replied bitterly.

"We'll not quibble about words," said he. "Would it be impertinent to
ask your business--and perhaps your name?"

"Did not Mr. Wright give you my name?" I exclaimed.

"He might have mentioned it, I did not hear. Is it of such importance?"

At that I lost my temper entirely.

"It may be, and it may not," I retorted. "I am David Ritchie."

He changed before my eyes as he stared at me, and then, ere I knew it, he
had me by both arms, crying out:--

"David Ritchie! My Davy--who ran away from me--and we were going to
Kentucky together. Oh, I have never forgiven you,"--the smile that there
was no resisting belied his words as he put his face close to mine--"I
never will forgive you. I might have known you--you've grown, but I vow
you're still an old man,--Davy, you renegade. And where the devil did
you run to?"

"Kentucky," I said, laughing.

"Oh, you traitor--and I trusted you. I loved you, Davy. Do you remember
how I clung to you in my sleep? And when I woke up, the world was black.
I followed your trail down the drive and to the cross-roads--"