The doctor poised his cigarette midway to his lips and looked quickly across at Philip.
"Possibly you belong to the Northwest Mounted Police," he suggested.
"Yes." "Heavens," drawled the doctor again, "and you the son of a millionaire banker! What you doing it for ?" "Fun," answered Philip, half laughing.

"And I'm not getting it in sugar-coated pellet form either.Doctor.I came up here to get a man, found him, and was gloriously walloped for my trouble.

I'm not particularly sorry, either.

Rather glad he got away." "Why ?" asked the doctor.
In spite of their short acquaintance Philip began to feel a sort of comradeship for the man opposite him.
"Well," he said hesitatingly, "you see, he was one of those criminals who are made criminals.

Some one else was responsible--a case of one man suffering because of another man's sins." If the doctor had received the thrust of a pin he could not have jumped from his chair with more startling suddenness than he did at Philip's words.
"That's it!" he cried excitedly, beginning to pace back and forth across the cabin floor.