eyes still
shut, he murmured so that they leaned closer not to miss the words:

"God is good to me in the end. I have always been lonely . . . without
your mamma, Davie. And now I am going to her . . . with all I love in
life telling me . . . good-bye. You, Max, my boy . . . you, Davie, my
son . . . you, Ygerne, my daughter. . . ."

Ygerne, a sob shaking at her breast, rose swiftly and went out. But in
a moment she was back, bringing with her a little flask of brandy. The
eyes of Ramon Garcia, the only eyes in the room to follow her, grew
unutterly sad.

A little of the brandy added fuel to the flickering fire of life in
Marshall Sothern. At his command they propped him up, the rug under
him, his shoulders against the wall at the side of the fireplace.
Drennen's face again had grown impassive. Max had not opened his lips
after his first outburst but in his eyes tears gathered, slowly
spilling over upon his brown cheeks. Ygerne, as before, stood a little
aloof.

"Davie," the old man said slowly, painfully, yet the words distinct
through the mastery of his will; "I wanted to tell you the story while
we were on the trail together . . . alone, out in the woods. But it is
just as well now. Max, my boy, you will forgive me? I want just Davie
here . . . and Ygerne."

Max turned swiftly, nodding, a new look in his eyes. He had said
truly; this old man had been more than father to him. Like all men of
strong passions Max knew jealousy; and now he sought to hide the hurt
that he should be sent away even though it be to make place for the son.

Max and Garcia and Lemarc went out, the door closing after them.
Coming to where Kootanie George lay they saw that Ernestine's face was
against his breast, that George's great arms were at last flung about
her shoulders.

Meantime John Harper Drennen told his story. Knowing that his time was
short, his strength waning, he gave only the essential facts without
comment, making no defence for himself which did not lie upon the
surface of these facts themselves.

John Harper Drennen had been the second vice-president of the Eastern
Mines, Inc., New York. He had made his reputation as a man of clean
probity, of unimpeachable honour. His influence became very great
because his honesty was great. The first vice-president of the company
was a man named Frayne. Just now Frayne lay dead outside with Max's
and Drennen's bullets through his body.

Frayne . . . or Sefton .