f their going into anything over here."

"That _is_ odd," said the Canadian.

"Or would be if it were not so common. It's the rule here, and I don't
know an exception. The defaulter never does anything with his money,
except live on it. Meigs, who built those railroads on the Andes, is the
only one who ever showed enterprise; and I never understood that it was
a private enterprise with him. Anyway, the American defaulter who goes
to Canada never makes any effort to grow up with the country. He simply
rests on his laurels, or else employs his little savings to negotiate a
safe return. No, sir; there's something in defalcation that saps a man's
business energies, and I don't suppose that old fellow would have been
able to invest in Oiseau's gold mine if it had opened at his feet, and
he could have seen the sovereigns ready coined in it. He just
_couldn't_. I can understand that state of mind, though I don't pretend
to respect it. I can imagine just how the man _trembled_ to go into some
speculation, and didn't dare to. Must have been an old hand at it, too.
But it seems as if the money he steals becomes sacred to a man when he
gets away with it, and he can't risk it."

"I rather think you could have overcome his scruples, Markham, if you
could have got at him," said the Canadian.

"Perhaps," Markham assented. "But I guess I can do better with our stock
in England."

Pinney had let his cigar go out, in his excitement. He asked Markham for
a light, though there were plenty of matches, and Markham accepted the
request as an overture to his acquaintance.

"Brother Yank?" he suggested.

"Boston."

"Going over?"

"Only to Rimouski. You don't happen to know the name of that defaulter,
do you?"

"No; I don't," said Markham.

"I had an idea I knew who it was," said Pinney.

Markham looked sharply at him. "After somebody in Rimouski?"

"Well, not just in that sense, exactly, if you mean as a detective. But
I'm a newspaper man, and this is my holiday, and I'm working up a little
article about our financiers in exile while I'm resting. My name's
Pinney."

"Markham can fill you up with the latest facts," said the Canadian,
going out; "and he's got a gold mine that beats Oiseau's hollow. But
don't trust him too far. I know him; he's a partner of mine."

"That accounts for me," said Markham, with the tolerant light of a
much-joked joker in his eyes. With Pinney alone he ceased to talk the
American which seemed to ple