"Oh, shucks, Boney! What's brute strength anyway?"
"Not much," Nap admitted. "But you—you haven't the force of a day-old puppy. Maybe, when I'm out of the way fighting my devils in the desert, you'll give Capper a free hand, and let him make of you what you were always intended to be—a human masterpiece. There won't be any obstacles when I'm out of the way."
Lucas's hand felt for and closed upon his. "If that's your condition, it's a bargain," he said simply.
"And you'll put up a fight for it, eh, Luke? You're rather apt to slack when I'm not by." Was there a hint of wistfulness in the words? It almost seemed so.
A very tender look came into the elder man's eyes. "With God's help,
Boney," he said, "I'll pull through."
Nap rose as if that ended the interview. Yet, rising, he still gripped the weak hand of the man who was his master.
A moment he stood, then suddenly bent very low and touched it with his forehead.
"I leave to-night," he said, and turning went very quickly and noiselessly from the room.