"He always seems to be on the lookout for anybody that has trouble, to help them; that's how he got to know my brother."
Mrs. Dean hesitated a moment. "I never spoke of this to any one before, but I thought maybe you'd be interested to know about it," she said, looking at Darrell with a slightly apologetic air.
"I am, and I think I understand and appreciate your motive," was his quiet reply.
She dropped her work, folding her hands above it, and her face wore a reminiscent look as she continued:
"When David's wife died, twelve years ago, it was an awful blow to him. He didn't say much,—that isn't our way,—but we were afraid he would never be the same again. His brother was out here at that time, but none of us could do anything for him. He kept on trying to attend to business just as usual, but he seemed, as you might say, to have lost his grip on things. It went on that way for nearly two years; his business got behind and everything seemed to be slipping through his fingers, when he happened to get acquainted with Mr. Britton, and he seemed to know just what to say and do. He got David interested in business again. He loaned him money to start with, and they went into business together and have been together ever since. They have both been successful, but David has worked and planned for what he has, while Mr. Britton's money seems to come to him. He owns property all over the State, and all through the West for that matter, and sometimes he's in one place and sometimes in another, but he never stays very long anywhere. David would like to have him make his home with us, but he told him once that he couldn't think of it; that he only stayed in a place till the pain got to be more than he could bear, and then he went somewhere else."
A long silence followed; then, as Mrs. Dean folded her work, she said, softly,
"It's no wonder he knows just how to help folks who are in trouble, for I guess he has suffered himself more than anybody knows."
A little later she had gone indoors to superintend the preparations for lunch, but Darrell still sat in the mellow, autumn sunlight, his eyes closed, picturing to himself this stranger silently bearing his hidden burden, changing from place to place, but always keeping the pain.