"Yes; she is safe and happy and learning fast. A teacher has taken a fancy to her and treats her like a daughter. No doubt, that is your work and I certainly appreciate it. I had to go back to the Keys to dispose of everything there, my store and tannery interests. She writes me the most delightful letters, one every day; in every one she mentions this teacher. She is a great girl, Wood," he added delightedly.
"You may well be proud of her, Howard."
"Have I got time to go down to Georgia with Don to get things started again where they left off fifteen years ago, before this case goes to trial?"
"Yes, I think so. Anyhow, I can reach you easily."
"That's one of the things that remains to be done; that man must be punished," he said savagely. "Fifteen years have changed me a great deal but I do not hate him one bit less. Killing is not enough for such vermin," he said with that deadly gleam in his eyes and the grinding of that wonderful jaw. His clean-shaven skin had a pinkish freshness and forceful virility. "And, Wood, another difficulty, strange as it may seem, presents itself—a great difficulty. I am a coward, Wood, a downright, craven coward." His fierceness softened and finally gave way to grave concern.
"What is it?"
"When I really came to myself—after five or six years on the Keys I was yet very bitter; I had envenomed acid bitterness against—well, about everybody. Little Jim was old enough to ask questions. She asked me about her mother. I told her she was dead—dead to me as a fact. But lately, likely suggested by her association with this teacher and other girls, she has asked about her mother again and wants to see where she is buried. How am I going to meet it? And, moreover, how am I going to tell her that my name is not Canby? And how am I going to tell her—what led to it? Her mind is like a steel trap. Silence only emphasizes. What shall I do? I love the child so much I have a cowardly fear that she will not understand."
"Howard, I realize your feelings and have foreseen your difficulties. I believe I can help you—possibly at the expense of your friendship—for a time——"
"That's impossible, Wood; you are one person to whom I must listen."
"All right, then brace yourself, for I am going to give it to you in allopathic doses. Howard, can you recall, when we last sat in this corner fifteen years ago, why I counseled caution, to 'play close' and let good enough alone?"