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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"Philip Steele of the Royal Northwest mounted Police"

He found that the doctor was even better
acquainted with his home city than himself, and that he knew many people
whom he knew, and lived in a fashionable quarter. He was puzzled even as
they talked and laughed and smoked their cigarettes and pipes. The
doctor said nothing about himself or his personal affairs, and cleverly
changed the conversation whenever it threatened to drift in that
direction.
It was late when Philip rose from his chair, suggesting that they go to
bed. He laughed frankly across into the other's face.
"Boffin--Boffin--Boffin," he mused.
"Strange I've never heard of you down south, Doctor. Now what the deuce
can you be doing up here?"
There was a point-blank challenge in his eyes. The doctor leaned a
little toward him, as if about to speak, but caught himself. For several
moments his keen eyes gazed squarely into Philip's, and when he broke
the silence the same nervous flush that Philip had noticed before rose
into his cheeks.
to go roughing it down in South America. I believe you're honest--on
the square."
Philip stared at him in amazement.
"If I didn't," he went on, rubbing his hands again over the stove, "I'd
follow your suggestion, and go to bed. As it is, I'm going to tell you
why I'm up here, on your word of honor to maintain secrecy. I've got a
selfish end in view, for you may be able to assist me.


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