He turned away and Reivers fell back on his blankets chuckling boyishly. He was in fine fettle. The Snow-Burner was coming back to his old form, and in the delight of the moment’s difficulties he had temporarily lost the softening memories that had disturbed him of late. “How was it, old-timer?” he laughed. “Could you pick any flaw in it?” MacGregor shook his head in wonder. “I had a man go fey on me once, up on the Slave Lake trail,” he said slowly. “He let go just such yells as came from your mouth now. I’m thinking no man could yell so lest he’s fey himself, or has travelled wi’ auld Nickie and stole some of his music.” “Quite so. Exactly the impression I wished to create,” said Reivers. “I thank you for your compliment, but your analysis is all wrong. Complete control of your vocal organs, that’s all. You see I wished to let out just such a yell. It was rather hard, because my vocal organs never had made such a sound before, and they protested. I forced them to do it. “The man with the superior mind can force his body to do anything. Understand, Mac? It’s the superior mind that counts. If you’d had a mind superior to Moir’s you’d be top dog here, with Moir fetching bones for you. As it is, you’re doing the fetching, and Moir’s growing fat. And here I come along, with a mind superior to Moir’s, and I’m going to be top dog now and gobble the whole proceeds of your squabbling. The mind, Mac, the grey stuff in the little bone-box at the top of your neck, that’s all that counts. Nothing else. And I’ve got the best grey matter in this camp, and I’m going to be top dog as a matter of course.” MacGregor flared up hotly. “You say, that’s all that counts?” he said. “D’you mean to tell me to my face that after I’d struck hands with a man to be my partner, as I did with Shanty Moir, that I’d turn on him and play him the scurvy trick he played me, just because I could? Well, if you say that, mon, you lie, and I throw the word smack in your teeth. Go back on my hand-shake, just to be top dog and get the bones! God’s blood! There’s other things better than bones, and there’s other things that count besides a superior mind. How many times do you suppose I could have shot Shanty Moir after we’d found this mine?” “Not once. You didn’t have it in you. You couldn’t do it. If you could you’d have been the superior man, and you’re not.” MacGregor thought it over. “You’re right, mon, I couldn’t do it. I thank God I couldn’t. I’d rather be the slave I am at present than be able to do things like that.” “Sentiment, Mac; foolish, unreasonable sentiment.”