red.

"Look here, old man--get ready to laugh. Split your sides, if you want
to. But it's God's truth that the girl I saw yesterday is the only girl
I've ever seen that I'd be willing to die for!"

"To be sure," agreed Philip. "I understand."

Gregson stared at him in surprise. "Why don't you laugh?" he asked.

"It is not a laughing matter," said Philip. "I say that I understand.
And I do."

Gregson looked from Philip's face to the picture.

"Does it--does it hit you that way, Phil?"

"She is very beautiful."

"She is more than that," declared Gregson, warmly. "If I ever looked
into an angel's face it was yesterday, Phil. For just a moment I met
her eyes--"

"And they were--"

"Wonderful!"

"I mean--the color," said Philip, engaging himself with the food.

"They were blue or gray. It is the first time I ever looked into a
woman's eyes without being sure of the color of them. It was her hair,
Phil--not this tinsel sort of gold that makes you wonder if it's real,
but the kind you dream about. You may think me a loon, but I'm going to
find out who she is and where she is as soon as I have done with this
breakfast."

"And Lord Fitzhugh?"

A shadow passed over Gregson's face. For a few moments he ate in
silence. Then he said:

"That's what kept me awake after you had gone--thinking of Lord
Fitzhugh and this girl. See here, Phil. She isn't one of the kind up
here. There was breeding and blood in every inch of her, and what I am
wondering is if these two could be associated in any way. I don't want
it to be so. But--it's possible. Beautiful young women like her don't
come, traveling up to this knob-end of the earth alone, do they?"

Philip did not pursue the subject. A quarter of an hour later the two
young men left the cabin, crossed the ridge, and walked together down
into Churchill. Gregson went to the Company's store, while Philip
entered the building occupied by Pearce. Pearce was at his desk. He
looked up with tired, puffy eyes, and his fat hands lay limply before
him. Philip knew that he had not been to bed. His oily face strove to
put on an appearance of animation and business as Philip entered.

Philip produced a couple of cigars and took a chair opposite him.

"You look bushed, Pearce," he began. "Business must be rushing. I saw a
light in your window after midnight, and I came within an ace of
calling. Thought you wouldn't like to be interrupted, so I put off my
business until this morning."