They were wild and bloodshot, and again Anderson felt a pang of helpless pity for a dishonoured and miserable old age.
"I'm sure you'll get on at Vancouver, father," he said gently.

"And I shall be there next week." His father growled some unintelligible answer.

As Anderson went to the door he again called after him angrily: "You were a d---- fool, George, not to find those dibs." "What, for the mine ?" Anderson laughed.

"Oh, we'll go into that again at Vancouver." McEwen made no reply, and Anderson left him.
Anderson woke before seven.

The long evening had passed into the dawn with scarcely any darkness, and the sun was now high.