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In the eant in the Royal Northwest Mounted Police, there re He had ian had told him that as left of his life would be measured out in hours--perhaps in minutes or seconds It was an unusual case There was one chance in fifty that he ht live two or three days, but there was no chance at all that he would live ht cos That was the pathological history of the thing, as far as ical science knew of cases similar to his own

Personally, Kent did not feel like a dying man His vision and his brain were clear He felt no pain, and only at infrequent intervals was his temperature above normal His voice was particularly calm and natural

At first he had san broke the news That the bullet which a drunken half-breed had sent into his chest teeks before had nicked the arch of the aorta, thus foran which did not sound especially wicked or convincing to hinificance for him as his perichondrium or the process of his stylorip at facts in detail, a characteristic that had largely helped hi the best man-hunter in all the northland service So he had insisted, and his surgeon friend had explained

The aorta, he found, was thefro it the bullet had so weakened its outer wall that it bulged out in the fores through the outer casing when there is a blowout

"And when that sack gives way inside you," Cardigan had explained, "you'll go like that!" He snapped a forefinger and thumb to drive the fact home

After that it was merely a matter of common sense to believe, and now, sure that he was about to die Kent had acted He was acting in the full health of hisshock he was contributing as a final legacy to the world at large, or at least to that part of it which knew hi did not oppress him A thousand tiedy were very closely related, and that there were times when only the breadth of a hair separated the two Many tie suddenly to tears, and tears to laughter