Bob Hampton of Placer

Hampton stirred uneasily in his chair.

"Shall I paint in exceedingly plain words the picture given me of you?"

There was no response, but the speaker moistened his lips and proceeded

firmly. "It was that of a professional gambler, utterly devoid of

mercy toward his victims; a reckless fighter, who shot to kill upon the

least provocation; a man without moral character, and from whom any

good action was impossible. That was what was said about you. Is the

tale true?"

Hampton laughed unpleasantly, his eyes grown hard and ugly.

"I presume it must be," he admitted, with a quick side glance toward

the closed door, "for the girl out yonder thought about the same. A

most excellent reputation to establish with only ten years of strict

attendance to business."

Wynkoop's grave face expressed his disapproval.

"Well, in my present judgment that report was not altogether true," he

went on clearly and with greater confidence. "I did suppose you

exactly that sort of a man when I first came into this room. I have

not believed so, however, for a single moment since. Nevertheless, the

naked truth is certainly bad enough, without any necessity for our

resorting to romance. You may deceive others by an assumption of

recklessness, but I feel convinced your true nature is not evil. It

has been warped through some cause which is none of my business. Let

us deal alone with facts. You are a gambler, a professional gambler,

with all that that implies; your life is, of necessity, passed among

the most vicious and degrading elements of mining camps, and you do not

hesitate even to take human life when in your judgment it seems

necessary to preserve your own. Under this veneer of lawlessness you

may, indeed, possess a warm heart, Mr. Hampton; you may be a good

fellow, but you are certainly not a model character, even according to

the liberal code of the border."

"Extremely kind of you to enter my rooms uninvited, and furnish me with

this list of moral deficiencies," acknowledged the other with affected

carelessness. "But thus far you have failed to tell me anything

strikingly new. Am I to understand you have some particular object in

this exchange of amenities?"

"Most assuredly. It is to ask if such a person as you practically

confess yourself to be--homeless, associating only with the most

despicable and vicious characters, and leading so uncertain and

disreputable a life--can be fit to assume charge of a girl, almost a

woman, and mould her future?"