sed, he contentedly examined the cracks
in the big iron box stove and, since the night was cool, stuffed in
more wood. It was in the back of his head that he had done what so
many men had failed to do, and soon, when Monsieur Clark gave the word,
he would be known as the man who had found iron in Algoma.

At the big jail, halfway between Fisette and Clark, Manson sat at his
desk in his little square office. He was very sore and very stiff, and
however savage he might feel about his defeat he could not but admire
the fierce loyalty of the halfbreed. It was what he would have liked
one of his own men to do. Now, however he might ache, he had a glow in
every strained joint. There was iron in Algoma and not far from St.
Marys.

Deliberately he shut away all outside thoughts and put himself to this,
perceiving what iron would mean to Clark, this new factor that might
upset every pessimistic opinion which he himself had voiced. He sat
biting at his big black mustache, till suddenly his imagination leaped
clear of St. Marys and took flight to Philadelphia. What would the
discovery of iron mean there? Instantly he saw a swift rise in
Consolidated stock and neither Manson nor any man in St. Marys owned a
share of that stock.

In two days he was on the train for Toronto, and, in three, was the
owner, on margin, of two hundred thousand dollars' worth of
Consolidated shares. The broker through whom he dealt looked curiously
at this new customer, the only man from St. Marys who had evidenced any
financial interest in Clark's enterprise, and, concluding that there
was more in the transaction than met the eye, bought forthwith for
himself. Then the two shook hands very cheerfully, the broker
promising to watch Consolidated like a hawk, while Manson bulged with
satisfaction. He would be known as the only man in St. Marys who had
made a fortune out of Clark's undertakings and that was satisfying to
Manson.

On the journey back he sat for hours staring out of the windows. He
had shaken free from the drowsiness of a former existence. His eyes
were open to the ease with which fortunes are made by those who do not
hesitate but seize the opportunity. He thought rather compassionately
of Worden, Dibbott and the rest, good natured but thick headed. What a
surprise it would be for them. But not once did Manson imagine that he
was trading peace for anxiety, and the even tenor of his former ways
for the hectic restlessness of