." He paused; then he asked
in a low voice, "You were thinking of London and the old times?"

Granger nodded his head.

"I've often done that; I can understand. It was torture to me in the
Yukon, and it was madness to me over there," pointing with his hand to
the northward, where the Forbidden River lay. "What would you say," he
added, "if I were to tell you that it could all come back again?"

Granger's reply was quiet and calculated, so that it seemed to be
quite within the bounds of courteous conversation. "I think I should
tell you that you lied," he said.

"But if I should give you proof that not only the old things were
possible, but that El Dorado might come true, and that within a year
we could seek it out together, as we have always planned to do?"

For answer Granger jerked out his foot, and sent a gaunt grey husky
flying, which had come within his range. It was one of those which
Spurling had left behind over two months ago at Murder Point, when he
had exchanged teams with Granger in his endeavour to escape
Strangeways. Spurling, when he saw it, recognised the meaning which
Granger's action implied. It was as if he had said, "So the old things
are possible, are they, you villain? What about that man whom you say
that you killed, whose body was washed up near Forty-Mile?" He opened
his lips to explain, and then fell silent. It was impossible to excuse
himself in the presence of those wolfish beasts, who had been
witnesses to all the degradation of mind and body which had overtaken
him in that terrible escape. No man could estimate the penalty which
he had had to pay for his moment's folly, except one who had endured
it. When he allowed his memory to dwell upon it, that frenzied rush
across half a continent seemed to have occupied all his life. The
thought of it made him afraid.

"Good God! And my mother meant me for a minister!" he exclaimed,
burying his face in his hands.

Granger looked up suspiciously, but he said nothing.

"No, I never told you that," he continued fiercely, "and I suppose you
don't believe me now. Seems somehow odd to you, I daresay, that Druce
Spurling should ever have thought himself worthy to talk to men about
their souls and Christ. You'd have thought it a good joke if I'd told
you even when you knew me at my best. _When you knew me!_ Bah! You
never knew me; you were always a harsh judge when it came to setting a
value on things which you didn't understand."

When Granger st