The revenge Cronk had planned upon this man suddenly lost its savor before the vividly drawn picture. He did not remember that Vandecar had come for his girl; he had in mind only the wee, sweet squatter woman so long dead.
"Didn't the warden tell ye that I hit him, Mister," he groaned, "and that I smashed the keeper when they telled me about her, and—and that the strait-jacket busted my collarbone when I was tryin' to get out to her?"
Vandecar shuddered and shook his head; but before he could speak Cronk wailed dazedly:
"Ye might have come and telled me yerself, ye might a knowed how I wanted ye to!"
"I told you that I did come and you were gone," Vandecar answered emphatically.
"Ye didn't think how I loved her, how I'd a dreamed of huggin' my own little brat!"
Vandecar interrupted again:
"I took the baby with me, Lon Cronk." At the word "baby," Lon dragged his heavy hand backward across his eyes. "The baby," continued the governor, "was no bigger than this,—a wee bit of a girl, such as all big men love to father."
The squatter stood rigidly up against the wall, until his head almost reached the ceiling. His fierce eyes centered themselves upon Vandecar.
"If I'd a knowed, Mister," he mumbled, "that ye'd took my little Midge's hand in yer'n, that ye soothed her when she was a howlin' fer me, I wouldn't have cribbed yer kids—I'll be damned if I would 'ave! But I hated ye—Christ! how I hated ye! I could only think how ye wouldn't help me." He shuddered, wiped his wet lips, and went on, "After that I went plumb to hell. There weren't no living with me in prison, lessen I were strapped in the jacket till my meat were scorched. It seemed as how it made my hurt less for her to have my own skin blistered. Then, when I got out of prison, I never once took my eyes offen ye, and when yer woman gived ye Flea and Flukey—"