"I give in," I wrote.

"When the next allowance arrives, I shall go straight out West, where you can do what you like with me." It is to be understood that Pinkerton had been, in a sense, pressing me to come from the beginning; depicting his isolation among new acquaintances, "who have none of them your culture," he wrote; expressing his friendship in terms so warm that it sometimes embarrassed me to think how poorly I could echo them; dwelling upon his need for assistance; and the next moment turning about to commend my resolution and press me to remain in Paris.

"Only remember, Loudon," he would write, "if you ever DO tire of it, there's plenty of work here for you--honest, hard, well-paid work, developing the resources of this practically virgin State.

And of course I needn't say what a pleasure it would be to me if we were going at it SHOULDER TO SHOULDER." I marvel (looking back) that I could so long have resisted these appeals, and continue to sink my friend's money in a manner that I knew him to dislike.

At least, when I did awake to any sense of my position, I awoke to it entirely; and determined not only to follow his counsel for the future, but even as regards the past, to rectify his losses.