“That doesn’t matter. I do know it. If I did not, you would not have walked away from Sapazani’s place so easily. In fact, you would never have got away from it at all.”
“I am sure I owe you an endless debt of gratitude,” answered Denham earnestly. “The only thing is I don’t believe you will ever give me a chance of showing it.”
“But I will; I am going to give you just such a chance before we part. But that will keep. Now—when are you going to marry Ben Halse’s daughter?”
Denham stared, then burst into a joyous laugh.
“When? As soon as ever I can, by God!”
The stranger looked at him curiously.
“Do you know why I have helped you?” he said.
“Not in the least.”
“On that account, and—on another. You were made for each other, and I could see it. I know.”
There was that in the tone, in the expression of the man’s face, that went to Denham’s heart. He, then, had a sacred memory, which had remained green all these years. Some telepathic thought seemed to convey this. He put forth his band and the other took it.