To speak the truth, this mine business sounds to me pretty shady.

Cut it all! I'll put you with decent people, who'll look after you." The eyes of the two men met; Anderson's insistently bright, McEwen's wavering and frowning.

The June sunshine came into the small room through a striped and battered blind, illuminating the rough planks of which it was built, the "cuts" from illustrated papers that were pinned upon them, the scanty furniture, and the untidy bed.

Anderson's head and shoulders were in a full mellowed light; he held himself with an unconscious energy, answering to a certain force of feeling within; a proud strength and sincerity expressed itself through every detail of attitude and gesture; yet perhaps the delicacy, or rather sensibility, mingling with the pride, would have been no less evident to a seeing eye.

There was Highland blood in him, and a touch therefore of the Celtic responsiveness, the Celtic magnetism.