She took her brother by the hand.
"Phil, dear, you have not spoken to Mr. Burroughs. He has told me so much of your life together in the Whoop Up Country, and what friends you are. He has been most kind to me. When I learned that you were ill, I was so alarmed—alone! But he—that is—I——"
"Why, it's this way, Danvers," interrupted Burroughs, speaking with more correctness than Phil had before heard him, and willingly taking the onus of explanation—his hour had come. "Your sister couldn't go to Macleod, of course. She couldn't stay here, alone. You'll stay with the Police, no doubt; and, as Latimer and his wife are away, it fitted right in with my plans"—he paused to enjoy the dismay on Danvers' face—"to ask Kate to do me the honor of marrying me. You remember," he hastened to add, "don't you, that I once told you that you'd not only never marry Eva Thornhill, but that I'd marry your sister?"
The dark, exultant face flashed the same look of hate that greeted Philip on the Far West, and later gloomed through the dimly lighted trading-post on the night of the dance! With a groan Danvers realized, as he looked at his suddenly shrinking sister, that the sacrifice of his life's ambition had been in vain.
