intolerant mouth. He had a cool, clear voice and a whimsical,
devil-may-care sort of manner that was apparently natural to him, as was
also a certain languid grace of movement. He possessed an irritating
mannerism of continually elevating his chin and dilating his curved
nostrils disdainfully in a sort of soundless sniff. Beyond a slight
flush he showed little trace of his previous night's dissipation.

"Where do you hail from?" he enquired of George with casual interest over
the mess-table later.

"Ontario," replied George laconically, "my people are farmers down there."

For a moment Yorke's arched brows lifted in puzzled surprise--came a
repetition of his offensive sniffing mannerism; and he stared pointedly
away again. It was difficult to be more insulting in dumb show.

George, mindful of his promise to Slavin, groaned inwardly. "I am going
to hate this fellow" he thought.

The sergeant, from the head of the table, kept a keen watch upon the pair.

"An' fwhat?" came his soft brogue, by way of diversion, "an' fwhat made
yu' take on th' Force?"

"Oh, I don't know!" Wearily, George shoved his hands deep into his
pockets and leant back in his chair. "Old man's pretty well fixed--now.
He's a member of the legislature for ---- County. I was at McGill for
some terms--medicine." A hopeless note crept into his tones. "I fell
down on my exams . . . ran amuck with the wrong bunch an' all
that--an'--an' . . . kind of made a mess of things I guess. . . . Went