d his every
movement through eyes that he tried to make sleepy-looking, but the
sparkle of hatred betrayed him.

"You seem well pleased with yourself," he sneered.

"Why shouldn't I be?" said Stonor good-naturedly. "Haven't I made a good
haul to-day?"

"How did you do it?"

"I just borrowed a little of your magic for the occasion and flew
through the air."

"Well, you're not out of the woods yet," said Imbrie sourly.

"No?"

"And if you do succeed in taking me in, you'll have some great
explaining to do."

"How's that?"

"To satisfy your officers why you hounded a man simply because you were
after his wife."

Stonor grinned. "Now that view of the matter never occurred to me!"

"It will to others."

"Well, we'll see."

"What's become of the two women?" asked Imbrie.

"They're on their way down-stream."

"What happened anyway, damn you?"

Stonor laughed and told him.

Later, after a thoughtful silence, Stonor suddenly asked: "Imbrie, how
did you treat measles among the Kakisas last year? That would be a good
thing for me to know."

"No doubt. But I shan't tell you," was the sullen answer.

"The worst thing we have to deal with up here is pneumonia; how would
you deal with a case?"

"What are you asking me such questions for?"

"Well, you're supposed to be a doctor."

"I'm not going to share my medical knowledge with every guy who asks. It
was too hard to come by."

"That's not the usual doctor's attitude."

"A hell of a lot I care!"

Stonor took out his note-book, and wrote across one of the pages: "The
body was not carried over the falls." He then poked the fire into a
bright blaze, and showed the page to Imbrie.

"What have I written?" he asked, watching the man narrowly.

Imbrie glanced at it indifferently, and away again. There was not the
slightest change in his expression. Stonor was convinced he had not
understood it.

"I won't tell you," muttered Imbrie.

"Just as you like. If I untie your hands, will you write a line from my
dictation?"

"No. What foolishness is this?"

"Only that I suspect you can neither read nor write. This is your
opportunity to prove that you can."

"Oh, go to hell!"

"I'm satisfied," said Stonor, putting away the book.

Travelling down the river next morning was child's play by comparison
with the labour of the ascent. The current carried them with light
hearts. That is to say, two of the hearts on board were light. Imbrie,
crouched in the b