resolute strength. A likable man he was, with an infinite capacity
for humour, but with a bedrock of unyielding determination in him that
always surprised those who judged him lightly.

The men were friends, and had been comrades more or less during those
pioneer days that followed their arrival in the country from Scotland
some dozen years ago. Often they had fallen out with each other, for
Duff was stormy of temper and had a habit of letting himself swing out
upon its gusts of passion, reckless of consequences; but he was ever the
one to offer amends and to seek renewal of good relations. He had few
friends, and so he clung the more closely to those he had. At such times
the other would wait in cool, good-tempered but determined aloofness for
his friend's return.

"You can chew your cud till you're cool again," he would say when the
outbreak would arise. But invariably their differences were composed and
their friendship remained unbroken.

The men sat in the buckboard, leaning forward with hunched shoulders,
swaying easily to the pitching of the vehicle as it rattled along the
trail which, especially where it passed over the round topped ridges,
was thickly strewn with stones. Before them, now on the trail and now
ranging wide over the prairie, ran a beautiful black and white English
setter.

"Great dog that, Sandy," said Duff. "I could have had a dozen birds this
afternoon. A wonderful nose, and steady as a rock."

"A good dog, Stewart," assented Sandy, but with slight interest.