ase repeat that very slowly."

"It's true," chuckled Filmer, "and I am calling a town meeting for
to-night. I haven't time to give you the details now, but be on hand
at eight o'clock. He's made a perfectly straight proposal and I don't
see how we can lose on it. I never met a man just like him."

"Did he come in on the train this afternoon?"

The mayor nodded. "Yes--said he was going on to Minneapolis, but
decided to stop over and make this offer."

"Then I saw him at the station," answered Bowers thoughtfully. "I
thought he was a buyer. Do you reckon we can rope him in?"

Filmer drew a long breath. "Looks to me as if he would rope himself in
the way he is going. He won't need any help from us."

"What did you make of him personally?"

"I didn't get very far," said Filmer deliberately, "except that he
struck me as the sort of man who gets things done. Look here, I've
seen Dibbott and Worden and Manson. Will you go and see the Bishop and
ask him to come to-night?"

"The Bishop went away this morning."

"Damn!" said the mayor explosively. "I wanted to get his opinion about
Clark, that's his name, Robert Fisher Clark. Well, so long."

He went on to his store where he was overtaken by Clark who had tramped
back from the rapids. The visitor was muddy and no longer immaculate
and there was a trace of fatigue on his face, but he looked as cheerful
and determined as ever. At that moment the village crier passed up the
street swinging a raucous bell and announcing in stentorian tones that
a meeting would be held in the town hall that night at eight o'clock to
consider matters of prime importance to the citizens at large. The
crier tramped on, and Filmer glanced up inquiringly.

"Won't you change your mind and come to the house with me? It is a
safe bet you'll be more comfortable."

Clark shook his head. "Thanks, but I've got to speak in two hours and
there's a good deal to think of."

Meantime rumors of many things had begun to spread through St. Marys.
The magistrate, as soon as the mayor left him, naturally told Mrs.
Worden all about it and Bowers would not have dreamt of keeping such a
thing from his wife, so had stuck a card on his office door saying he
would be back in ten minutes and went home for the afternoon, after
which Mrs. Worden and Mrs. Bowers strolled over to see Mrs. Dibbott and
were in close conversation amongst the perennials, appealing now and
then to Dibbott in order that ther