“I’m sorry I wasn’t near to try and do something for the poor fellow,” said the doctor, later on, when his friends were gathered round a blazing wood-fire in his own snug house. “But I doubt if I could have helped him. I guess he was born with the hankering for whiskey, and when that is in the mongrel blood of a half-breed it is pretty sure to wreck him some time. We must leave him to God, boys, and to changes larger than we know.”