Philip Davison had an accession of strength after that and sat at his desk through the whole of one afternoon, thinking and writing. When Justin made his customary call in the morning and was about to turn away, Davison bade him stay.

“You will find some papers in the upper right hand drawer of my desk, Justin. Get them and bring them to me.”

Justin found the papers and handed them to him.

“Now, sit down by the bed again.”

Justin took the chair, and looked at his father, who reclined in the bed propped with pillows. Davison had changed greatly. His hair and beard were almost white and his blue eyes gleamed from deep sockets. There was something pathetic in the contrast between the emaciated, trembling father and the robust, stalwart son. Justin pitied him.

“There are some things I want to talk to you about, Justin.” His hands trembled so much that the papers rattled as he unfolded them. “I am not able to attend to business now, and may never be able. Fogg will be here to-morrow, and there are some things I want to talk over with you before he comes. He is anxious to sell out to that man from the East. He thinks the chance is one not to be lost.”

It was the first time that Davison had offered to consult with Justin on any subject, or had spoken to him in this manner. Justin drew his chair closer to the bed.

“If I can help you in any way.”

“I’ve got to have your help, I suppose,” said Davison, with a touch of his old petulance. “When a man is wrecked he clutches at—well, we won’t talk about that! We’ll have to agree to let bygones be bygones. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, and I want to do right by you.”

He put down the papers, which he had been about to read.

“By the way, Justin, I’ve been thinking a good deal about you and Lucy. You and she are still in the notion of marrying, I suppose?”

His voice was kindly now, and it softened still more as he beheld the hurt expression on his son’s flushed face.

“Forget what I said just now, and I’ll try to be more considerate. This has been a terrible thing for me; how terrible I don’t think you can ever realize. I had made Ben my idol. It was foolish, of course, but in this world men do foolish things; I have done my full share of them. So if there is anything to be forgiven by any one I am the one to do the forgiving.”

His hands shook again on the papers and tears came into the sunken eyes.

“I have forgiven Ben everything. I think he was not so much to blame after all. I was wild, too, in my youth; and, forgetting that, I did not bring him up right. If he had lived; that is, if——” The tears overflowed on his cheeks, and he stopped. “But we won’t talk about that. I wish I could forget it.”

He folded the papers and spread them out again, while he sought to gain control of his voice.

“If you and Lucy are still in the notion of getting married, you have my full consent to do so. You are my son, and I shall treat you as a son should be treated; and she is my adopted daughter. So, whatever I have is yours and hers, when I am gone.”

“You will get well!” said Justin, earnestly and with feeling.

“Yes, I believe so!” There was a touch of the old fire now. “I think I shall get well. I have improved lately. My head doesn’t trouble me so much, for one thing. It has cleared so that I was able to do a good deal of writing yesterday. I shall get well, but I know I shall never be the same; I shall never be able to take the interest in business matters that I did. I don’t seem to care what goes on in the valley and on the ranch now. Even the loss of those cattle didn’t touch me. Once I should have felt it, just as Fogg did.”

“Lucy will be very glad to know that we have your full consent to our marriage,” Justin ventured.

“Of course she will; and you, too. It will even please me to have you married as soon as possible. You may live in any of the houses we have bought that will suit you, or a new one can be built.”

He took up the papers again.

“I shall turn the management of the place over to you until I am able to manage it myself. You can consult with Fogg, and I will give you what instructions I can. I hope to be strong enough in another month to ride about, and then I can assist you even more. Fogg thinks it would be well to sell our canal interests and a part of our land to this Eastern man. I agree with him. I think we ought to hold a good deal of the valley land; it’s going to be valuable, when that tunnel is cut. That man will bring in a colony of farmers and gardeners; a good many people can live here, with the aid of the irrigation that can be had from the Warrior River. I want to stay here, in spite of what has happened; and you and Lucy will want to stay here. There isn’t a prettier valley in the state, and it’s our home; and the sale of a part of our land, with the cultivation of the rest of it, and the increase in values, will make us independent.”

He began to read from the papers. To Justin’s surprise they held a list of names of men Davison had wronged and to whom he wished now to make restitution.

“I was over-persuaded in a good many things, and often went with Fogg against my better judgment. But I haven’t anything to say against him. Whatever I did I am willing to shoulder. He is a first-class business man; I admire his ability to make money, and I wanted money, for Ben. These things I have marked here I desire made right, so far as they can be made right. I don’t want you to give away money to anybody. Money isn’t to be shaken out of every tree, except by a man like Fogg. Pay whatever is just, but no more. The names are here, and the amounts. I have been generous in the estimates, and you will have no call to go farther than I have.”

He put the papers in Justin’s hands.

“There; I turn this business, and all the rest of my business, over to you! And you and Lucy may get married as soon as you like. Consult with Fogg concerning the land to be sold.”

The blue eyes smiled from the deep sockets, and the face was softer and more kindly. Already Davison had a higher and more satisfactory opinion of himself.

“You are my son, Justin. I have no other son now; and we will try to be to each other what we ought to have been all these years.”

“Father!”

Justin’s voice trembled; and though when he stood erect he towered above other men, he humbled himself now as a child, and laid his first kiss of love on his father’s wasted cheek.