her marry me, that so he might bring me
back. He was fond of both of us; we'd been brought up together, and he
couldn't bear the idea of either of us being separated from himself.
He made an awful mess of things, poor old gentleman; he persecuted her
with his arguments to such an extent that one morning he woke up and
found that she had vanished. He made all sorts of inquiries, but to
the day of his death could never get any news of her whereabouts."

Strangeways paused and commenced to light his pipe. Granger, who had
become interested in the story, waited a minute for him to proceed,
but when he had kindled his tobacco and still sat smoking in silence,
"Well, and what next?" he asked.

"That is all," said Strangeways; "now tell me about yourself."

"I went into the Klondike with the gold-rush of nearly five years ago.
I travelled with a man named Spurling, and a young chap named Jervis
Mordaunt, whom we chummed up with in our passage over the Skaguay." He
was conscious that Strangeways had jerked out his foot and was looking
hard at him. He paid no attention to that, but proceeded leisurely
with his tale. He conceived that it would answer his purpose better,
in order that he might make the corporal unsuspicious of his share in
Spurling's escape, to speak of him in a hostile manner, and to mention
all the small and private faults which he could place to his
discredit. He told a story of personal disputes between himself and
his partners over the working of claims, which left the impression
that Spurling and Mordaunt had always sided together against himself,
and that finally he, getting sick of the climate, and quarrellings,
and his continuous bad luck, had come outside, travelled to Winnipeg,
and taken service with Garnier, Parwin, and Wrath, because he was in
danger of starving. Of El Dorado, or his real reason for leaving the
Yukon, he said nothing.

When he had ended, Strangeways, who had never for a second removed his
gaze, inquired in a hoarse, strained voice, "And this man Mordaunt,
what was he like?"

"Oh, he was a slim little fellow; we nicknamed him 'The Girl' because
of his ways, and because he was so slight."

"How old was he?"

"He couldn't have been more than eighteen when we first met him, for
he never had to shave."

"Did he ever tell you anything about himself, where he came from, who
were his family, or anything like that?"

"Not that I remember; he was always very close about himself. But