He was now so desperately homesick that he meditated striking one of these prosperous-looking fellows for a pass back to the cattle country.

But each time his pride stood in the way.

It would be necessary to tell his story and yet conceal his name--which was a very difficult thing to do even if he had had nothing to cover up.
Late in the evening, faint with hunger, he started for his wretched bunk as a starving wolf returns, after an unsuccessful hunt, to his cold and cheerless den.

His money was again reduced to a few coppers, and for a week he had allowed himself only a small roll three times a day.

"My God! if I was only among the In-jins," he said savagely; "_they_ wouldn't see a man starve, not while they had a sliver of meat to share with him; but these Easterners don't care; I'm no more to them than a snake or a horned toad." The knowledge that Mary's heart would bleed with sorrow if she knew of his condition nerved him to make another desperate trial.