of the Force he served. It was Duty first and last. “Maintien le Droit” was the motto of this wonderful body of men, and the code written in the little red manual was stern and stripped of all useless verbiage. It told without a shadow of a doubt what was expected, and the instructions were to be followed to the letter. This suited Sergeant North. He loved the life, and never once had he swerved one hair’s breadth from the strict line of duty.
His was not an impressionable nature, and he was always shy in the presence of women. But when Marion Brisbane crossed his path it was altogether different. She inspired him with confidence, his shyness vanished, and he could talk freely. Out upon the trails a vision of her was ever before him, and he always counted the days until he could see her again. So standing before her this afternoon in the hospital, he feasted his soul upon her face, lips, eyes, and hair. He did not want to talk; it was heaven enough to be near her, and to revel in her beauty. Whatever Sergeant North did it was with his whole might. He threw himself unreservedly into every undertaking. He was a hard trailsman, a stern fighter, when fighting was necessary, and now for the first time in his life he was a great lover.
Marion’s eyes dropped beneath North’s ardent gaze, and she became somewhat embarrassed. Neither spoke, and for a few seconds intense silence reigned. Then they both smiled and the tension was broken.
“Forgive me for keeping you standing,” Marion apologized. “It is very stupid of me. Come in here,” and she opened a door on her right.
“I have not long to stay,” North explained, as he followed her into the little sitting-room, and seated
