He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. ‘It is nothing at all of the kind. She was in a very uncritical state that afternoon. Henry Clay, thirteen cents in Hong-Kong and two-bits in that dear old New York. “Does he never speak to you of—of old times?” she faltered. I am going to help take care of him," said Ruth, quite ordinarily, as though taking care of unknown derelicts was an ordinary event in her life. You tried bravely enough to hide your preference, to look at us all with the same eyes, to speak to us in the same tone. ’ ‘Yes, but I need a word with Gerald,’ protested the captain, hanging back. Out of the beaten track, far from the trails of men! He relaxed.
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