With some expression of grief at their bereavement, and anticipation of
seeing her brother, the letter closed.

Come up to the Whoop Up Country! His young, unsophisticated sister? She
must not! He started up, thinking to send a rider to Fort Benton with a
message to cable to London. But she would already have started. And how
could he support her in England? How support her in any country on his
small income, used as she was to every luxury? It was horrible! What to
do! What to do! At last he took up Latimer's letter. At least here would
be something to put heart into a fellow, he thought, hopefully. The bold
handwriting seemed so like the light-hearted Southerner that a wan smile
played over Philip's ghastly face. The smile faded to be replaced by
agony as the sense of the words was absorbed--words leaping at him,
fiendishly:

_"Dear Old Chum--I am the happiest fellow alive. Eva Thornhill and
I were married last week, and our only regret was that you could
not be my best man. I spoke of it several times. How did this
happen, you ask? Why, I was fortunate enough to fall heir to
something like twenty-five thousand dollars this winter, and, after
settling the question whether there was any understanding between
you and Eva (she assured me there never had been) I sailed right
in--and she is mine._

_"Old boy! Eva's the dearest little piece of guilelessness in the
world. She's told me all about Burroughs, and even confessed that
she used to admire you; but she thought you very reserved. I have
told how companionable you really are and how she should have
captured you. But she shakes her pretty head and says that she is
jealous of you--that I am fonder of you than of her! She's a rogue!
I used to be dumbly jealous of the other fellows, knowing how poor
I was. I had to keep myself well in hand, I tell you, especially
when I used to see you two together. But if Eva had cared for you
(how could she help it?) I'd have been the first one to
congratulate you. We could not be rivals, could we, dear old man?_

_"We are going East for the summer, and the doctor goes with us as
far as St. Louis. Wish us well, Phil! Why haven't you written? I
know it has been a bad winter and only two mails from Macleod, but
I expected to hear at least once._

_"I wish that you could find so ideal a wife as mine. Dear,
i