"Not in the same way."
"What about this girl Laure?"
This time Pierce flushed uncomfortably. "I've no excuses to offer there, sir—no explanations. We—just drifted together. It was a long trip and the Yukon does that sort of thing. Force of circumstance as much as anything, I presume. I've been trying to break away, but—" he shrugged.
"You've been a pretty foolish lad." Pierce remained silent at this accusation, and the colonel went on: "However, I didn't bring you here to lecture you. The Royal Mounted have other things to think about than young wasters who throw themselves away. After all, it's a free-and-easy country and if you want to play ducks and drakes it's your own business. I merely want you to realize that you've put yourself in a bad light and that you don't come into court with clean hands."
"I understand. I put in a wakeful night thinking about it. It's the first time in a long while that I've done any serious thinking."
"Well, don't be discouraged. A little thinking will benefit you. Now then, I'm going to put Rock at work on your case, and meanwhile you may have the liberty of the Barracks. You're a gentleman, and I trust you to act as one."
Pierce was only too grateful for this courtesy, and to realize that he retained the respect of this middle-aged, soldierly officer, whom he had long admired, filled him with deep relief. He gave his promise readily enough.
Later in the day Broad and Bridges came in to see him, and their indignation at the outrage, their positive assertion that it was nothing less than a deliberate conspiracy, and so considered among the Front Street resorts, immensely cheered him.
"You remember the holler I let up when them Sheep-Campers wanted to hang McCaskey?" Broad inquired. "It was my mistake. His ear and a hemp knot would go together like rheumatism and liniment."
Bridges agreed. "Funny, us three bein' tillicums, ain't it?" he mused. "Especially after the way we dredged you. We didn't need your loose change, but—there it was, so we took it."