"Not from me. I had money at first, and transportation to Chicago where I enlisted. I blew in the cash, and lost the other. Then I started in to beat my passage east, working only when I had to. I was thrown off a train about twenty miles west of here, and came into this burg on foot. It was tough luck for a day or two until I caught on to a lumber yard job. I 've been working now for a couple of weeks. Nice record, is n't it?"
Her parted lips trembled, but those questioning brown eyes never deserted my face.
"It is not as bad as I feared, if—if you have told me all."
"I have confessed the worst anyhow. I 'm a rough, I suppose, and a bum, but I 'm not a criminal."
"Why were you at that house? and so afraid of the police?"
"Well, that is a long story," I replied hesitatingly. "I had been talking with some men inside, who had offered me work, and good pay. There was a reason why I did not wish to be seen coming out at that hour."
"Not—not anything criminal?"
"No; I 've confessed to being a good-for-nothing, but I 'm clear of crime."
She drew a long breath of relief.
"I do not quite believe," she said firmly. "You—you do not look like that."