They had been in prison together, and 'Zeki'l had left Miller there. He had never felt any liking for the man, and less now than ever, as he looked at his ragged clothing and dissipated face. He had evidently been steadily sinking in vice, and its repulsiveness was impressed upon his outward being. But a certain pity stirred 'Zeki'l's heart. He remembered his own friendlessness when he entered that settlement. Could he show less mercy than had been shown to him?
"Sit down, won't you?" he said kindly, blowing up the coals in the forge to a glowing heat.
"That I will. I'm footsore, and hungry as a bear. I'm in luck to meet with you, comrade," chuckling.
'Zeki'l winced. The man's familiarity grated upon him.
"Where are you goin'?" he inquired.
"Oh, nowhere in particular. I'm jest out."
"Why, I thought your time would be up in two years after I left."
Miller shrugged his shoulders. "Yes; but I made so many attempts to escape that they kept adding extra time to my term."
He sat down while 'Zeki'l finished his work.
"You seem to be getting on pretty well," he continued, his restless eyes scanning the surroundings.