nough to begin with and the town just
wanted power for light and water works, so they gave the contractor the
job, borrowed a hundred and thirty thousand dollars, and got the
necessary land from the Ottawa government. I've an idea that if those
rights ever get into experienced hands you'll hear a good deal more of
St. Marys than you ever heard before."

"And then?"

"The town went broke on the job. Mind you, they had a corking
agreement with the government and a block of land alongside the rapids
big enough for a young city. The mistake was they hadn't secured any
factory. Also they needed about five times as much money."

The other man smiled reflectively. "The old story over again."

"That's about it. Credit ran out and the work stopped and things began
to rust, and now St. Marys has gone to sleep again and does a little
farming and trade with the Indians."

"In fact, it's a sort of rural tragedy?"

"Yes. You'll see the half-finished ditch just before we cross the
bridge. I'm afraid St. Marys has that kind of a sick feeling that
generally knocks the stuffing out of a municipality. Come on, let's
have some lunch."

The two disappeared toward the dining car, but Clark did not stir. His
eyes, which were gray and keen, still fixed themselves contemplatively
on the ragged wilderness. His lips were pressed tight, his jaw
slightly thrust out. Water rights--industries--unlimited power--land
for an industrial city; all this and much more seemed to hurl itself
through his brain. Presently he took a railway folder out of his bag
and examined one of those maps which invariably indicate that the
railway which has published the folder owns the only direct route
between important points and that all other lines meander aimlessly in
comparison. He noted, although he already knew it, that St. Marys,
Ontario, was just across the river from St. Marys, Michigan; that Lake
Superior flung itself down the rapids that roared between, and that to
the south the country was fairly well settled--but to the north the
wilderness stretched almost unbroken to the sub-arctics.

A quarter of an hour passed when a long whistle announced the approach
to the town. At the sound a new light came into the gray eyes, the
traveler closed his bag with a snap and began to put on his coat. Just
at that moment the porter hurried up.

"This isn't Minneapolis, sir."

Clark drew a long breath. "I know it--have changed my mind. I'm for