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So he had eschewed all love-making, regulated his dual life,
cleaned up a million in business, fought shy of match-making
mamas and bright-eyed and eager young ladies of various ages,
met Lilian Gersdale and made it a rigid observance never to see
her later than eight o'clock in the evening, run of nights
after his coyotes, and slept in forest lairs--and through it
all had kept his secret safe save Lee Sing . . . and now, Dave
Slotter. It was the latter's discovery of both his selves that
frightened him. In spite of the counter fright he had given the
burglar, the latter might talk. And even if he did not, sooner
or later he would be found out by some one else.
Thus it was that James Ward made a fresh and heroic effort to
control the Teutonic barbarian that was half of him. So well
did he make it a point to see Lilian in the afternoons, that
the time came when she accepted him for better or worse, and
when he prayed privily and fervently that it was not for worse.
During this period no prize-fighter ever trained more harshly
and faithfully for a contest than he trained to subdue the wild
savage in him. Among other things, he strove to exhaust himself
during the day, so that sleep would render him deaf to the call
of the night. He took a vacation from the office and went on
long hunting trips, following the deer through the most
inaccessible and rugged country he could find--and always in
the daytime. Night found him indoors and tired. At home he
installed a score of exercise machines, and where other men
might go through a particular movement ten times, he went
hundreds. Also, as a compromise, he built a sleeping porch on
the second story. Here he at least breathed the blessed night
air. Double screens prevented him from escaping into the woods,
and each night Lee Sing locked him in and each morning let him
out.
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