I knew him as a boy, and he died while I was yet a boy, taking with him, save in the memory of a few, a rare and wonderful, if not wholly lovable personality.

For over twenty years I had carried him in my mind, wondering whether, and when, I should-make use of him.

Again and again I was tempted, but was never convinced that his time had come; yet through all the years he was gaining strength, securing possession of my mind, and gathering to him, magnet-like, the thousand observations which my experience sent in his direction.

In my mind his life-story ended with his death at the Cote Dorion.

For years and years I saw his ending there.