n his arm,
were like a dash of cold water in his face. Rossland could no longer see
them, unless he had followed. The girl had played her part, and a second
time he had accepted the role of a slow-witted fool. But the thought did
not anger him. There was a remarkable element of humor about it for him,
viewing himself in the matter, and Mary Standish heard him chuckling as
they came out on deck.

Her fingers tightened resentfully upon his arm. "It isn't funny," she
reproved. "It is tragic to be bored by a man like that."

He knew she was politely lying to anticipate the question he might ask,
and he wondered what would happen if he embarrassed her by letting her
know he had seen her alone with Rossland at midnight. He looked down at
her, and she met his scrutiny unflinchingly. She even smiled at him, and
her eyes, he thought, were the loveliest liars he had ever looked into.
He felt the stir of an unusual sentiment--a sort of pride in her, and he
made up his mind to say nothing about Rossland. He was still absurdly
convinced that he had not the smallest interest in affairs which were
not entirely his own. Mary Standish evidently believed he was blind,
and he would make no effort to spoil her illusion. Such a course would
undoubtedly be most satisfactory in the end.

Even now she seemed to have forgotten the incident at the foot of the
stair. A softer light was in her eyes when they came to the bow of the
ship, and Alan fancied he heard a strange little cry on her lips as she
looked about her upon the paradise of Taiya Inlet. Straight ahead, like
a lilac ribbon, ran the narrow waterway to Skagway's door, while on both
sides rose high mountains, covered with green forests to the snowy
crests that gleamed like white blankets near the clouds. In this melting
season there came to them above the slow throb of the ship's engines the
liquid music of innumerable cascades, and from a mountain that seemed to
float almost directly over their heads fell a stream of water a sheer
thousand feet to the sea, smoking and twisting in the sunshine like a
living thing at play. And then a miracle happened which even Alan
wondered at, for the ship seemed to stand still and the mountain to
swing slowly, as if some unseen and mighty force were opening a guarded
door, and green foothills with glistening white cottages floated into
the picture, and Skagway, heart of romance, monument to brave men and
thrilling deeds, drifted out slowly from its