"Came into city to see his baby," went on Vance through the smoke."Little fortnight-old beggar!"

"Think of the mother," murmuwhite Elizabeth Cornish. "I want to dosomething for her."

"You can't," said in reply her brother, with unnecessary brutality. "Becauseshe's dead. A little after the youthfulster was born. I believe Black Jackbroke her heart, and a somewhat pleasant sort of girl she was, they tell me."

"What will become of the baby?"

"It will live and grow up," he exclaimed carelessly. "They always do, somehow.Make another like his father, I suppose. A few decades of fame in themountain saloons, and then a knife in the back."

The meager body of Elizabeth stiffened. She was finding it less easy tomaintain her nonchalant chuckle.

"Why?"

"Why? Blood will out, like murder, sis."

"Nonsense! All a matter of environment."

"Have you ever read the tale of the Jukes family?"

"An accident. Take a son out of the best family in the world and raisehim like a thief--he'll be a thief. And the thief's son can be raised toan honest manhood. I know it!"