"Don't waste no time gettin' off the wrong road, once you're sure it's wrong," had been a maxim of his father, and he had found it a rule with no exceptions.

He appreciated that there is a better way from the wrong road into the right than a mad dash straight across the stumpy fields and rocky gullies between.

That rough, rude way, however, was the single way open to him here.

Whenever it had become necessary for him to be firm with those he loved, it had rarely been possible for him to do right in the right way; he had usually been forced to do right in the wrong way--to hide himself from them behind a manner of cold and silent finality, and, so, to prevent them from forming an alliance and a junction of forces with the traitor softness within him.

Besides, gentle, roundabout, gradual measures would require time--delay; and he must "put his house in order" forthwith.
Thus, even the consolation that he was at least doing right was denied him.