"See you again some day." And so they parted, Kalman carrying with him an uncomfortable sense of having been at various times in his life something of a cad, and a fear lest this painful fact should be known to his new master and friend.
"Well, youngster," said French, noticing his glum face, "you did me a good turn that time.

That beggar had me foul then, sure enough, and I won't forget it." Kalman brightened up under his words, and without further speech, each busy with himself, they sped along the trail till the day faded toward the evening.
But the Edmonton trail that day set its mark on the lives of boy and man,--a mark that was never obliterated.

To Kalman the day brought a new image of manhood.

Of all the men whom he knew there was none who could command his loyalty and enthral his imagination.
It is true, his father had been such a man, but now his father moved in dim shadow across the horizon of his memory.

Here was a man within touch of his hand who illustrated in himself those qualities that to a boy's heart and mind combine to make a hero.
With what ease and courage and patience and perfect self-command he had handled those plunging bronchos! The same qualities too, in a higher degree, had marked his interview with the wrathful and murderous Galician, and, in addition, all that day Kalman had been conscious of a consideration and a quickness of sympathy in his moods that revealed in this man of rugged strength and forceful courage a subtle something that marks the finer temper and nobler spirit, the temper and the spirit of the gentleman.