ittle speech and they all
drank Clark's health, promising him continued support and such money as
he needed to make steel rails. The threatening specter of Marsham had
vanished utterly.

The answer was characteristic. There was no mention of anything the
speaker had contributed, but just the voicing of his unalterable faith
in a country which so far had never failed to produce whatever the
industry required. It was a pleasure for him to work for directors and
shareholders who had so practically demonstrated their confidence. He
said this with a smile which was absolutely undecipherable, then drank
their health in water which was his only drink---declined one of
Wimperley's cigars, for he did not smoke--and inquired quietly if he
was to get his railway as well. Whereupon he was immediately assured
that he would get anything he asked for.

That evening the Philadelphians left in the private car. They were
rather quiet, being caught up in contemplation of a new vision. As the
train pulled out Clark waved a hand to the group on the rear platform
and returned thoughtfully to the blockhouse where he began to write.
The letter was to his mother. He told her that he had been too busy
for correspondence of late, and had just concluded a very satisfactory
and official visit from his directors. In consequence, he would now be
busier than ever. He stared at his own signature for a moment, then
opened a window and stood peering out toward the river. The moon was
up, and he caught the snowy gleam of foam at the foot of the rapids.
Their voice seemed very clear and very triumphant that night. They
sang of providence--or was it destiny?

His mind turned reflectively to Elsie Worden, experiencing as yet no
thrill but just a growing and satisfying attraction. All things seemed
possible tonight. He had never given much thought to women, being
impatient with what seemed to him their artifice and slight power of
insight. So often the women who were esteemed most praiseworthy, were
also the least intelligent, and lacked that spark which to him
signified vision. In past years he had had a rooted belief that the
standard wife was a burden who not only robbed one of mobility, but
also demanded her portion of all moments, however individual, absorbed
or tense they might be. In such circumstances there was nothing around
which he could build a mental fence and call it his own.

It is possible that in such periods as these, wh