and thin for ten years.
He starved with me, and fought with me, and half died with me, and he's
going to live with me as long as I live. Would you eat the flesh of your
brother, Steele? He's my brother--the last that your glorious law has
left to me. Would you kill him if you were me?"

Something stuck hard and fast in Philip's throat, and he made no reply.
DeBar came toward him with the hot bird on the end of his stick. With
his knife the outlaw cut the bird into two equal parts, and one of these
parts he cut into quarters. One of the smaller pieces he tossed to the
hound, who devoured it at a gulp. The half he stuck on the end of his
knife and offered to his companion.

"No," said Philip. "I can't."

The eyes of the two men met, and DeBar, on his knees, slowly settled
back, still gazing at the bird, said DeBar, after a moment, "don't be a
fool, Steele. Let's forget, for a little while. God knows what's going
to happen to both of us to-morrow or next day, and it'll be easier to
die with company than alone, won't it? Let's forget that you're the Law
and I'm the Man, and that I've killed one or two. We're both in the same
boat, and we might as well be a little bit friendly for a few hours, and
shake hands, and be at peace when the last minute comes. If we get out
of this, and find grub, we'll fight fair and square, and the best man
wins. Be square with me, old man, and I'll be square with you, s'elp me
God!"

He reached out a hand, gnarled, knotted, covered with callouses and
scars, and with a strange sound in his throat Philip caught it tightly
in his own.

"I'll be square. Bill!" he cried. "I swear that I'll be square--on those
conditions. If we find grub, and live, we'll fight it out--alone--and
the best man wins. But I've had food today, and you're starving. Eat
that and I'll still be in better condition than you. Eat it, and we'll
smoke. Praise God I've got my pipe and tobacco!"

They settled back close in the lee of the drift, and the wind swirled
white clouds of snow-mist over their heads, while DeBar ate his bird and
Philip smoked. The food that went down DeBar's throat was only a morsel,
but it put new life into him, and he gathered fresh armfuls of sticks
and sapling boughs until the fire burned Philip's face and his drying
clothes sent up clouds of steam. Once, a hundred yards out in the plain,
Philip heard the outlaw burst into a snatch of wild forest song as he
pulled down a dead stub.

"Seems good