n't he a splendid human animal?"

Sheba nodded. "He's wonderful."

"If I were a little Irish colleen and he had done me the honor to care
for me, I'd have fallen fathoms deep in love with him."

The Irish colleen's eyes grew reflective. "Not if you had seen Peter
first, Di. There's nothing reasonable about a girl, I do believe. She
loves--or else she just doesn't."

Diane fired a question at her point-blank. "Have you met _your_
Peter? Is that why you hang back?"

The color flamed into Sheba's face. "Of course not. You do say the most
outrageous things, Di."

They had driven to Willow Creek over the river road. They returned by
way of the hills. Macdonald drew up in front of a cabin to fill the
radiator.

He stood listening beside the car, the water bucket in his hand.
Something unusual was going on inside the house. There came the sound
of a thud, of a groan, and then the crash of breaking glass. The whole
window frame seemed to leap from the side of the house. The head and
shoulders of a man projected through the broken glass.

The man swept himself free of the debris and started to run. Instantly
he pulled up in his stride, as amazed to see those in the car as they
were to see him.

"Gordon!" cried Diane.

Out of the house poured a rush of men. They too pulled up abruptly at
sight of Macdonald and his guests.

A sardonic mirth gleamed in the eyes of the Scotchman. "Do you always
come out of a house through the wall, Mr. Elliot?" he asked.

"Only when I'm in a hurry." Gordon pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed
at some glass-cuts on his face.

"Don't let us detain you," said the Alaskan satirically. "We'll excuse
you, since you must go."

"I'm not in such a hurry now. In fact, if you're going to Kusiak,
I think I'll ask you for a lift," returned the field agent coolly.

"And your friends-in-a-hurry--do they want a lift too?"

Big Bill Macy came swaying forward, both hands to his bleeding head.
"He's a spy, curse him. And he tried to kill me."

"Did he?" commented Macdonald evenly. "What were you doing to him?"

"He can't sneak around our claim under a false name," growled one of the
miners. "We'll beat his damn head off."

"I've had notions like that myself sometimes," assented the big
Scotchman. "But I think we had all better leave Mr. Elliot to the law.
He has Uncle Sam back of him in his spying, and none of us are big
enough to buck the Government." Crisply Macdonald spoke to Gordon,
turnin