"That sounds good! I've gone by another name, of course, and that's the first time I've heard my own since--" He stopped suddenly, and the laugh left his voice and face.
"It sounds--homelike," he added more gently.

"What's yours, pardner ?" "Steele--Philip Steele, of the R.N.W.M.P.," said Philip.
"Used to know a Steele once," went on DeBar.

"That was back--where it happened.

He was one of my friends." For a moment he turned his eyes on Philip.

They were deep gray eyes, set well apart in a face that among a hundred others Philip would have picked out for its frankness and courage.