Gingerly seating himself upon the narrow settee Mr. Hyde murmured,
wonderingly: "Say! You're a regular guy, ain't you?" He began to laugh
again, but now there was less of a metallic quality to his merriment.
"Yes sir, dam' if you ain't." He withdrew from his pocket a
silver-mounted hair-brush and comb, and placed them carefully upon the
washstand. "I don't aim to quit winner on a sport like you."

"Thanks, awfully!" smiled the young man. "I'd have fought you for that
comb and brush. Girl stuff, you understand? That's she." He pointed to
a leather-framed photograph propped against the mirror.

Laughing Bill leaned forward and studied the picture approvingly.
"Some queen, all right. Blonde, I reckon."

"Sure. You like blondes?"

"Who, me? I ain't strong for no kind of women. You hate her, don't
you?"

The young man smiled more widely, his whole face lit up. "I hate her
so much that I kissed her good-by and sailed away to make a quick
fortune. I hope Alaska's unhealthy."

"Yeah?"

"You see, I'm a doctor. I'm a good doctor, too, but it takes a long
time to prove it, out in the States, and I can't wait a long time."

Mr. Hyde pondered briefly. "I don't see's you got much on me, Doc," he
said. "I frisk 'em while they're good and healthy, and you 'take' 'em