In one sense Hampton had greatly enjoyed Miss Spencer's call. Her

bright, fresh face, her impulsive speech, her unquestioned beauty, had

had their effect upon him, changing for the time being the gloomy trend

of his thoughts. She was like a draught of pure Spring air, and he had

gratefully breathed it in, and even longed for more.

But gradually the slight smile of amusement faded from his eyes.

Something, which he had supposed lay securely hidden behind years and

distance, had all at once come back to haunt him,--the unhappy ghost of

an expiated crime, to do evil to this girl Naida. Two men, at least,

knew sufficient of the past to cause serious trouble. This effort by

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Slavin to hold personal communication with the girl was evidently made

for some definite purpose. Hampton was unable to decide what that

purpose could be. He entertained no doubt regarding the enmity of the

big gambler, or his desire to "get even" for all past injuries; but how

much did he know? What special benefit did he hope to gain from

conferring with Naida Gillis? Hampton decided to have a face-to-face

interview with the man himself; he was accustomed to fight his battles

in the open, and to a finish. A faint hope, which had been growing

dimmer and dimmer with every passing year, began to flicker once again

within his heart. He desired to see this man Murphy, and to learn

exactly what he knew.

He had planned his work, and was perfectly prepared to meet its

dangers. He entered the almost deserted saloon opposite the hotel,

across the threshold of which he had not stepped for two years, and the

man behind the bar glanced up apprehensively.

"Red Slavin?" he said. "Well, now see here, Hampton, we don't want no

trouble in this shebang."

"I 'm not here seeking a fight, Jim," returned the inquirer, genially.

"I merely wish to ask 'Red' an unimportant question or two."

"He's there in the back room, I reckon, but he's damn liable to take a

pot shot at you when you go in."

Hampton's genial smile only broadened, as he carelessly rolled an

unlighted cigar between his lips.

"It seems to me you are becoming rather nervous for this line of

business, Jim. You should take a good walk in the fresh air every

morning, and let up on the liquor. I assure you, Mr. Slavin is one of

my most devoted friends, and is of that tender disposition he would not

willingly injure a fly."