and a very great deal lighter of heart. For the straight, honest work had done for him what it is intended to do for all men, it had drawn the restless evil out of him and it had given him back sanity and peace and an honest contentment. He was strong enough now to stand up to the battle that life might hold for him at Grey Wolf. He was strong enough to meet its temptations.

He told himself that even if Andree had not forgotten him for a newer lover she could not trouble him now. Even if Tempest had not forgiven he could yield Tempest obedience and love again. The great hand of discipline, hourly bodily discipline, had been heavy on him through these six weeks, and he felt the benefit of it. He found a merry satisfaction in being ruled by his own choice; this man who could not rule himself.

Tempest heard them coming down the street one afternoon, with Passpartout singing at the top of his sturdy lungs that tenderest and best-known little love-song of the voyageur-men, and he leaned from the window, listening.

sang Passpartout, ending with a wild "H-r-r-r-mp," as he swung his dogs into the yard. Dick followed with the handsome, sullen Greek beside him. The man had evidently shown fight, for he was handcuffed to a strap on Dick's belt. Tempest smiled as Dick halted the Greek in the yard and spoke to him with that half-idle levity which nevertheless masked a sharp cunning equal to that of his namesake, the wolverine. The Greek was not fully awake to it yet, for he made an abortive attempt to escape; and then Tempest saw how, quick as light, Dick caught the man by the elbows, ran him across the yard, and twisted him into a cell. After that he pulled down his tunic, and Tempest saw him nod and laugh as Kennedy came out and spoke to him.

Tempest drew back nervously. Dick would be coming in to make his report directly. He was coming now, and