ively, as the door closed again. He opened the stove and proceeded
to knock the embers together preparatory to stoking up afresh.

"Guess you were making for the Pass," he said conversationally.

"Yes," replied Grey.

"Missed the trail," the other said, pitching a cord-wood stick
accurately into the centre of the glowing embers.

Grey made no answer.

"'Tisn't in the way of Governments to show consideration to their
servants," Mr. Smith went on, filling the stove with fuel to the limit
of its holding capacity. "It's a deadly season to be forced to travel
about in."

"Consideration," said Grey bitterly. "I'm forced to undertake this
journey twice a year. Which means I am on the road the best part of my
time. And merely because there is no bank or authorized place for
depositing----"

"Ah, gold," put in Mr. Zachary Smith quietly.

"And reams of 'returns.'"

"They reckon that the 'rush' to the Yukon'll come next year. Maybe
things will alter then."

Smith straightened himself up from his occupation. His face displayed
but the most ordinary interest in the conversation.

At that moment Chillingwood returned bearing two small brass-bound
chests. The Indian followed him bringing a number of packages of
tinned food. Smith glanced from the chests--which were as much as
Chillingwood could carry--to the angular proportions of the Indian's
burden, then back again to the chests. He watched furtively as the
officer deposited the latter; then he turned back to the stove and
opened the damper.

Then followed a meal of which all three partook with that heartiness
which comes of an appetite induced by a hardy open-air life. They
talked but little while they ate, and that little was of the
prospects of the new Eldorado. Leslie Grey spoke with the bitterness
of a disappointed man. In reality he had been successful in the
business he had adopted. But some men are born grumblers, and he was
one. It is probable that had he been born a prince he would have
loudly lamented the fact that he was not a king. Chillingwood was
different; he accepted the situation and enjoyed his life. He was
unambitious whilst faithfully doing that which he regarded as his
duty, first to himself, then to his employers. His method of life was
something like that of the sailor. He fully appreciated the motto of
the seafaring gentry--one hand for himself and one for his employers.
When in doubt both hands for self. He meant to break away from his
pres