rapid.
The latter had a curious, irritating effect on Nasmyth, who hitherto had
scarcely noticed the insistent pulsatory clamor. At length Lisle spoke
again, laying a strong restraint upon himself.

"Our mutual friend called me Lisle at the Empress Hotel. I don't think he
mentioned my first name, Vernon; and as that was the name of Gladwyne's
guide I kept it in the background. I was anxious to take you with me; I
wanted an Englishman of some standing in the old country whose word would
be believed. What was more, I wanted an honest man who would form an
unbiased opinion. I didn't know then that you were a friend of
Gladwyne's."

Nasmyth made a slight gesture which suggested the acknowledgment of a
compliment.

"I'll try to be just--it's sometimes hard." His voice had a throb of pain
in it as he went on: "I was the friend of George Gladwyne--the one who
perished. I had a strong regard for him."

Something in his expression hinted that this regard had not been shared
by the Gladwyne who survived.

"When my father first came out to British Columbia, new to the bush
ways," Lisle resumed, "a neighbor, Vernon, was of great help to him--lent
him teams, taught him how to chop, and what cattle to raise. He died
before my father, and I was named for him; but he left a son, older than
I, who grew up like him--I believe he was the finest chopper and trailer
I have ever come across. He died, as you have heard, from exposure and
exhaustion, a few days after he reached the Hudson Bay post--before he
could clear himself."

Lisle broke off for a moment and seemed to have some difficulty in
continuing.

"When my father died, Vernon took charge of the ranch, at my mother's
request--I was rather young and she meant to launch me in some
profession. Vernon had no ambition--he loved the bush--and he tried to
give me enough to finish my education while he ran both ranches with a
hired man. I think my mother never suspected that he handed her over more
than she was entitled to, but I found it out and I've been glad ever
since that I firmly prevented his continuing the sacrifice. For all that,
I owe him in many ways more than I could ever have repaid." He clenched
one hand tight as he concluded: "I can at least clear his memory."

Nasmyth nodded in sympathy.

"You called me an honest man; you have my word--I'll see the right done."

Quietly as it was spoken, Lisle recognized that it was no light thing his
companion promised him. In