"I tried drugs, but they made me worse. God! Then my fancies WERE
sick. No, I'm going to get out."
"Where? How?"
"I'm going north to look up the members of my family and learn who
I really am. I resigned from the Ranger force to-day. That's no
place for a fellow with a--homicidal mania."
"Dave! You're taking this thing too absolutely and too hard,"
Ellsworth declared.
But Dave went on, unheeding. "Another reason why I want to get
away now is that Alaire will expect me to come to her when she
sends for me and--I wouldn't dare trust myself."
"Have you told her--written her?"
"Not yet, and I sha'n't until I trace out the last doubt in my own
mind."
In an effort to cheer, Ellsworth put his arm about the sufferer's
shoulders. "I'm sure you'll do the right thing, Dave," he said.
"Maybe, after all, your instinct is true and you're not Frank
Law's boy. I hope so, for this thing weighs me down as it weighs
you; but you mustn't let it whip you. Don't give in, and
meanwhile, above all things, try to get some sleep."
Dave nodded and mumbled something; then he slouched out, leaving
the lawyer overcome by a great pity. Ellsworth had seen men,
stunned by a court sentence, turn away from the bar with that same
dumb, fixed look of hopelessness in their eyes.
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