MIGHT look a bit different to him, it would be natural, for you and I
have been on the rough edge of the world all that time. The jolly good
part of it all is that we look so much alike. I say the idea is
splendid!"

Conniston rose above the presence of death in the thrill of the great
gamble he was projecting. And Keith, whose heart was pounding like an
excited fist, saw in a flash the amazing audacity of the thing that was
in Conniston's mind, and felt the responsive thrill of its
possibilities. No one down there would recognize in him the John Keith
of four years ago. Then he was smooth-faced, with shoulders that
stooped a little and a body that was not too strong. Now he was an
animal! A four years' fight with the raw things of life had made him
that, and inch for inch he measured up with Conniston. And Conniston,
sitting opposite him, looked enough like him to be a twin brother. He
seemed to read the thought in Keith's mind. There was an amused glitter
in his eyes.

"I suppose it's largely because of the hair on our faces," he said.
"You know a beard can cover a multitude of physical sins--and
differences, old chap. I wore mine two years before I started out after
you, vandyked rather carefully, you understand, so you'd better not use
a razor. Physically you won't run a ghost of a chance of being caught.
You'll look the part. The real fun is coming in other ways. In the next
twenty-four hours you've got to learn by heart the history of Derwent
Conniston from the day he joined the Royal Mounted. We won't go back
further than that, for it wouldn't interest you, and ancient history
won't turn up to trouble you. Your biggest danger will be with
McDowell, commanding F Division at Prince Albert. He's a human fox of
the old military school, mustaches and all, and he can see through