gs when I'm
dead, Mercer," he said, "but while I'm alive I want salt on 'em! Do you
know, old man, you look bad this morning. Is it because this is my last
breakfast?"

"I hope not, sir, I hope not," replied Mercer quickly. "Indeed, I hope
you are going to live, sir."

"Thanks!" said Kent dryly. "Where is Cardigan?"

"The Inspector sent a messenger for him, sir. I think he has gone to
see him. Are your eggs properly done, sir?"

"Mercer, if you ever worked in a butler's pantry, for the love of
heaven forget it now!" exploded Kent, "I want you to tell me something
straight out. How long have I got?"

Mercer fidgeted for a moment, and a shade or two more of the red went
out of his face. "I can't say, sir. Doctor Cardigan hasn't told me. But
I think not very long, sir. Doctor Cardigan is cut up all in rags this
morning. And Father Layonne is coming to see you at any moment."

"Much obliged," nodded Kent, calmly beginning his second egg. "And, by
the way, what did you think of the young lady?"

"Ripping, positively ripping!" exclaimed Mercer.

"That's the word," agreed Kent. "Ripping. It sounds like the calico
counter in a dry-goods store, but means a lot. Don't happen to know
where she is staying or why she is at the Landing, do you?"

He knew that he was asking a foolish question and scarcely expected an
answer from Mercer. He was astonished when the other said:

"I heard Doctor Cardigan ask her if we might expect her to honor us
with another visit, and she told him it would be impossible, because
she was leaving on a down-river scow tonight. Fort Simpson, I think she
said she was going to, sir."

"The deuce you say!" cried Kent, spilling a bit of his coffee in the
thrill of the moment. "Why, that's where Staff-Sergeant O'Connor is
bound for!"

"So I heard Doctor Cardigan tell her. But she didn't reply to that. She
just--went. If you don't mind a little joke in your present condition,
sir, I might say that Doctor Cardigan was considerably flayed up over
her. A deuced pretty girl, sir, deuced pretty! And I think he was shot
through!"

"Now you're human, Mercer. She was pretty, wasn't she?"

"Er--yes--stunningly so, Mr. Kent," agreed Mercer, reddening suddenly
to the roots of his pasty, blond hair. "I don't mind confessing that in
this unusual place her appearance was quite upsetting."

"I agree with you, friend Mercer," nodded Kent. "She upset me. And--see
here, old man!--will you do a dying man the bigg