The Irish girl fled into the house as soon as she could, but not before making an announcement. "We're to be married soon, very quietly. If you are still at Kusiak we want you to be one of the few friends present, Mr. Elliot." Macdonald backed her invitation with a cool, cynical smile. "Miss O'Neill speaks for us both, of course, Elliot." The defeated man bowed. "Thanks very much. The chances are that I'll be through my business here before then." As soon as his fiancee had gone into the house, the Scotchman left. Gordon sat down in a porch chair and stared straight in front of him. The suddenness of the news had brought his world tumbling about his ears. He felt that such a marriage would be an outrage against Sheba's innocence. But he was not yet far enough away from the blow to ask himself how much the personal hurt influenced his opinion. Though she was sorry for him, Diane did not think it best to say so yet. Presently he spoke thickly. "I suppose you have heard that he was a squawman." His friend joined battle promptly with him. "That's ridiculous. Don't be absurd, Gordon." "It's the truth. I've seen the woman. She was pointed out to me." "By old Gideon Holt, likely," she flashed. "One could get evidence and show it to Miss O'Neill," he said aloud, to himself rather than to her. Diane put her point of view before him with heated candor. "_You_ couldn't. Nobody but a cad would rake up old scandals about the man who has beaten him fairly for a woman's love." "You beg the question. _Has_ he won fairly?" "Of course he has. Be a good sport, Gordon. Don't kick on the umpire's decision. Play the game." "That's all very well. But what about her? Am I to sit quiet while she is sacrificed to a code of honor that seems to me rooted in dishonor?" "She is not being sacrificed. I'm her cousin. I'm very fond of her. And I'd trust her with Colby Macdonald." "Play fair, Diane. Tell her the truth about this Indian woman and let your cousin decide for herself. You can't do less, can you?" Mrs. Paget was distinctly annoyed. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Gordon Elliot. You take all the gossip of a crack-brained old idiot for gospel truth just because you want to believe the worst about Mr. Macdonald. Don't you know that people will say anything about a man who succeeds? Colby Macdonald is too big and too aggressive not to have made hundreds of enemies. His life has been threatened dozens of times. But he pays no attention to it--goes right on building-up this country. Yet you'd think he had a cloven hoof to hear some people talk. I've no patience with them." "The woman's name is Meteetse," Gordon said in an even voice, just as if he were answering a question. "She is young and good-looking for an Indian. Her boy is four or five years old. Colmac, they call him, and he looks just like Macdonald."