riend joined battle promptly with him. "That's ridiculous. Don't be
absurd, Gordon."

"It's the truth. I've seen the woman. She was pointed out to me."

"By old Gideon Holt, likely," she flashed.

"One could get evidence and show it to Miss O'Neill," he said aloud, to
himself rather than to her.

Diane put her point of view before him with heated candor. "_You_
couldn't. Nobody but a cad would rake up old scandals about the man who
has beaten him fairly for a woman's love."

"You beg the question. _Has_ he won fairly?"

"Of course he has. Be a good sport, Gordon. Don't kick on the umpire's
decision. Play the game."

"That's all very well. But what about her? Am I to sit quiet while she
is sacrificed to a code of honor that seems to me rooted in dishonor?"

"She is not being sacrificed. I'm her cousin. I'm very fond of her. And
I'd trust her with Colby Macdonald."

"Play fair, Diane. Tell her the truth about this Indian woman and let
your cousin decide for herself. You can't do less, can you?"

Mrs. Paget was distinctly annoyed. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself,
Gordon Elliot. You take all the gossip of a crack-brained old idiot
for gospel truth just because you want to believe the worst about Mr.
Macdonald. Don't you know that people will say anything about a man who
succeeds? Colby Macdonald is too big and too aggressive not to have made
hundreds of enemies. His life has been threatened dozens of times. But
he pays no attention to it--goes right on building-up this country.
Yet you'd think he had a cloven hoof to hear some people talk. I've no
patience with them."

"The woman's name is Meteetse," Gordon said in an even voice, just as
if he were answering a question. "She is young and good-looking for an
Indian. Her boy is four or five years old. Colmac, they call him, and
he looks just like Macdonald."

"People are always tracing resemblances. There's nothing to that. But
suppose his life _was_ irregular--years ago. This isn't Boston. It
used to be the fringe of civilization. Men did as they pleased in the
early days. We don't ask a man up here what he has been, but what he is.
You ought to know that by this time."

"This wasn't in the early days. It was five years ago, when Macdonald
was examining the Kamatlah coal-field. I'm told he sends a check down
the river once a month for the woman."

"All the more credit to him if he does." Diane rose and looked stormily
down at her friend. "You're about a