But while that truly benevolent inclination was, in his consciousness, unmarred with sinister motive of any sort; still, deeper than the impulse for good in James Rutlidge's nature lay those dominant instincts and passions that were his by inheritance and training.

The brutal desire, the mood and purpose that had brought him to that spot where with the aid of his glass he could watch Sibyl Andres, were not denied by his impulse to kindly service.
Under all his thinking, as he considered how he could help the convict to a better life, there was the shadowy suggestion of a possible situation where a man like the one before him--wholly in his power as this man would be--might be of use to him in furthering his own purpose--the purpose that had brought about their meeting.
Studying the object of his pity, he said slowly, "I suppose the most of us are as deserving of punishment as the majority of those who actually get it.

One way or another, we are all trying to escape the penalty for our wrong-doing.

What if I should help you out--make it possible for you to live like other men who are safe from the law?
What would you do if I were to help you to your freedom ?" The hunted man became incoherent in his pleading for a chance to prove the sincerity of his wish to live an orderly, respectable, and honest life.
"You have a safe hiding place here in the mountains ?" asked Rutlidge.
"Yes; a little hut, hidden in a deep gorge, over on the Cold Water.

I could live there a year if I had supplies." James Rutlidge considered.