"The Great Spirit gives strange proof of his greatness. My partner, who is very dear to me, will listen while I tell him the story of what has been.
"Fifteen years ago and even more, I was up in Alaska. A man, a stranger to me, risked his life and saved mine. More than that, he shared the little he had with me, through the long winter, even though he went hungry often. That was brave and it was good. So I, who had no call of bloodfolk, found my call there. Stewart and I, we did things, but it brought no returns in white man's gold. Then this man returned to where his family was waiting and he was sorrowful that he could bring no wealth. I went with him. Could I do more?
"A fine man was he. The Great Spirit called him about three years later and he answered. And even as he passed on to the Great Beyond, he turned to me and wished that I would do what I could for his loved ones.
"It was little enough I could do, but that little I did. Gentle and kind was Mrs. Stewart; and little Mary, but two years old, was a great playmate. The days were cheerful and even comfortable. Mrs. Stewart named Mary—Mary Lee—for two reasons: For me, and because it sounded as if it were Merri-ly. And a merry spirit she was.
"The little girl was eight years old when the Great Spirit called again and this time Mrs. Stewart made answer. A sorry time it was; but sorrier days were to come, for they who plan things decided that Jim Lee, because he was an Indian, was not the proper person to take care of one who was dearer than all life to him.
"They took the little girl away even as she cried and would not go. She went East and they would not tell me where. And then I decided that perhaps it was better so. She was young and would forget. Perhaps she would be happier.
"And now you come and bring back—from out of the past—news of a very dear one. So blame me not, if I am moved. I shall leave you, my brother, for an hour or so, for I would be alone."
The Indian walked out of the hut. For more than three hours Tom Marshall was alone. Then Lee returned, but he offered no comment and the white man respected his wish for silence.
"Shall I write and tell Mary Lee that you are here?" Tom Marshall inquired the next morning. "Or, perhaps you would like to write to her yourself?"
Lee made no answer for a moment and seemed to be debating the question.