"Fine girl! Oh, of course, of course--fine girl certainly. Fine girl.
But what's that got to do with it?"

"Well, sir," ventured the Sergeant in a tone of surprise, "a good deal,
sir, I should say. By Jove, sir, I could have--if I could have pulled it
off myself--but of course she was an old flame of Cameron's and I'd no
chance."

"But the Service, sir!" exclaimed the Superintendent with growing
indignation. "The Service! Why! Cameron was right in line for promotion.
He had the making of a most useful officer. And with this trouble coming
on it was--it was--a highly foolish, indeed a highly reprehensible
proceeding, sir." The Superintendent was rapidly mounting his pet hobby,
which was the Force in which he had the honor to be an officer, the
far-famed North West Mounted Police. For the Service he had sacrificed
everything in life, ease, wealth, home, yes, even wife and family, to
a certain extent. With him the Force was a passion. For it he lived and
breathed. That anyone should desert it for any cause soever was to him
an act unexplainable. He almost reckoned it treason.

But the question was one that touched the Sergeant as well, and deeply.
Hence, though he well knew his Chief's dominant passion, he ventured an
argument.

"A mighty fine girl, sir, something very special. She saw me through a
mountain fever once, and I know--"

"Oh, the deuce take it, Sergeant! The girl is all right. I grant you all
that. But is that any reason why a man should desert the Force? And now