“Did you ever see a dog fight?” he asked.
She hesitated, as if trying to remember, and shuddered slightly. “Once.”
“What happened?”
“It was my dog—a little dog. His throat was torn—”
He nodded. “Exactly. And that is just what John Graham is doing to Alaska, Miss Standish. He's the dog—a monster. Imagine a man with a colossal financial power behind him, setting out to strip the wealth from a new land and enslave it to his own desires and political ambitions. That is what John Graham is doing from his money-throne down there in the States. It's the financial support he represents, curse him! Money—and a man without conscience. A man who would starve thousands or millions to achieve his ends. A man who, in every sense of the word, is a murderer—”
The sharpness of her cry stopped him. If possible, her face had gone whiter, and he saw her hands clutched suddenly at her breast. And the look in her eyes brought the old, cynical twist back to his lips.
“There, I've hurt your puritanism again, Miss Standish,” he said, bowing a little. “In order to appeal to your finer sensibilities I suppose I must apologize for swearing and calling another man a murderer. Well, I do. And now—if you care to stroll about the ship—”
From a respectful distance the three young engineers watched Alan and Mary Standish as they walked forward.
“A corking pretty girl,” said one of them, drawing a deep breath. “I never saw such hair and eyes—”
“I'm at the same table with them,” interrupted another. “I'm second on her left, and she hasn't spoken three words to me. And that fellow she is with is like an icicle out of Labrador.”
And Mary Standish was saying: “Do you know, Mr. Holt, I envy those young engineers. I wish I were a man.”
“I wish you were,” agreed Alan amiably.
Whereupon Mary Standish's pretty mouth lost its softness for an instant. But Alan did not observe this. He was enjoying his cigar and the sweet air.

CHAPTER III


Alan Holt was a man whom other men looked at twice. With women it was different. He was, in no solitary sense of the word, a woman's man.