And me remembering him looking just like you, full of life and strong and--" "Our pictures of him are a good deal different.

I--I guess you knew him when everything was all right for him.

Things were different after he got home again." Mother Howard looked quickly about her, then with a swift motion closed the door.
"Son," she asked in a low voice, "did n't he ever get over it ?" "It ?" Fairchild felt that he stood on the threshold of discoveries.
"What do you mean ?" "Didn't he ever tell you anything, Son ?" "No.

I--" "Well, there was n't any need to." But Mother Howard's sudden embarrassment, her change of color, told Fairchild it was n't the truth.

"He just had a little bad luck out here, that was all.
His--his mine pinched out just when he thought he 'd struck it rich--or something like that." "Are you sure that is the truth ?" For a second they faced each other, Robert Fairchild serious and intent, Mother Howard looking at him with eyes defiant, yet compassionate.