home.

Sheba came forward to greet the new guest. The welcome in her eyes was
very genuine.

"You and Mr. Macdonald know each other, of course," she said after her
handshake.

The Scotchman nodded his lean, grizzled head, looking straight into the
eyes of the field agent. There was always a certain deliberation about
his manner, but it was the slowness of strength and not of weakness.

"Yes, I know Mr. Elliot--now. I'm not so sure that he knows me--yet."

"I'm beginning to know you rather well, Mr. Macdonald," answered Gordon
quietly, but with a very steady look.

If the Alaskan wanted to declare war he was ready for it. The field
agent knew that Selfridge had sent reports detailing what had happened
at Kamatlah. Up to date Macdonald had offered him the velvet glove. He
wondered if the time had come when the fist of steel was to be doubled.

Paget was frankly pleased to see Gordon again. He was a simple, honest
man who moved always in a straight line. He had liked Elliot as a boy
and he still liked him. So did Diane, for that matter, but she was a
little on her guard against him. She had certain plans under way that
she intended to put through. She was not going to let even Gordon Elliot
frustrate them.

"Did you have a successful trip, Mr. Elliot?" asked Sheba innocently.

Paget grinned behind his hand. The girl's question was like a match
to powder, and every one in the room knew it but she. The engineer's
interests and his convictions were on the side of Macdonald, but
he recognized that Elliot had been sent in to gather facts for the
Government and not to give advice to it. If he played fair, he could
only tell the truth as he saw it.

The eyes of Diane held a spark of hostility as she leaned forward. The
word had already been passed among the faithful that this young man was
not taking the right point of view.

"Did you, Gordon?" echoed his hostess.

"I think so," he answered quietly.

"I hear you put up with old Gideon Holt. Is he as cracked as he used to
be?" asked Macdonald.

"Was he cracked when you used to know him on Frenchman Creek?" countered
the young man.

Macdonald shot a quick, slant look at him. The old man had been talking,
had he?

"He was cracked and broke too," laughed the mine-owner hardily. "Cracked
when he came, broke when he left."

"Yes, that was one of the stories he told me." Gordon turned to Sheba.
"You should meet the old man, Miss O'Neill. He knew your father at
Da