"We've had such a good walk." Sheba went on quickly. "I wish you could
have heard Mr. Macdonald telling me how he once had a chance to save a
small Esquimaux tribe during a hard winter. He carried food five hundred
miles to them. It was a thrilling experience."
"Mr. Macdonald has had a lot of very interesting experiences. You must
get him to tell you about all of them," answered Gordon quietly.
The eyes of the two men met. The steel-gray ones of the older man
answered the challenge of his rival with a long, steady look. There was
in it something of triumph, something of scornful insolence. If this
young fellow wanted war, he did not need to wait long for it.
"Time enough for that, man. Miss O'Neill and I have the whole Arctic
winter before us for stories."
The muscles in the lean jaws of Gordon Elliot stood out like steel
ropes. He turned to Sheba. "Am I to congratulate Mr. Macdonald?"
The color in her cheeks grew warmer, but her shy glance met his fairly.
"I think it is I that am to be congratulated, Mr. Elliot."
Diane took her cousin in her arms. "My dear, I wish you all the
happiness in the world," she said softly.
The Irish girl fled into the house as soon as she could, but not before
making an announcement.
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