"Was Grove aboard the Haida when you came through the rapids this afternoon? I didn't see him."
"Down below, I suppose," Phil replied. "I didn't notice. But he was with us. Why?"
"I thought so. What a skunk he is. Yet in this family he's the little tin god on wheels. He thinks everybody is as rotten as himself, too."
"You shouldn't talk like that," Phil remonstrated mildly.
"It's true. You know it is."
For a second Phil said nothing to this.
"One can't go about shouting unpleasant truths," he observed then. "What's wrong, anyhow?"
"I'm to be packed off to McGill day after to-morrow."
"But the term doesn't begin for weeks yet."
"Oh, I'm to visit Aunt Maida and explore the historic city which has justified its existence by containing the seat of learning where my forefathers absorbed the knowledge and culture which has enabled them to lead such eminently successful and praiseworthy lives," Rod drawled.