They're way behind the times in the Dominion." "Killed him in his sleep for a hundred dollars," said another man, glancing over the reader's shoulder, but Miss Deringham was not interested in the murder she remembered having heard about.

She was, however, a trifle astonished to see that her father was watching the gathering group with a serious look in his eyes, but he glanced down somewhat hastily at his papers when he met her gaze.

Then the voices grew less distinct, and that of the man dictating broke monotonously through them until a steward approached her father with an envelope in his hand.
"Mr.Forel has just sent it down, sir," he said.

"You're Mr.
Deringham ?" Deringham tore the envelope open, and while he sat staring at the paper inside it his daughter noticed that there was a little pale spot in his cheek.

His hand also appeared to tremble slightly when, saying nothing, he passed the telegram across to her.
"Regret to inform you that my partner met with accident in the ranges, and his condition is critical," it read.