pburn in reply requested them to keep a sharp lookout for a young man
of that name, who would shortly present a letter of credit to them, and
provide him with a ticket to New York on account of it, but nothing
more. Mr. Hepburn also explained that, as Cabot Grant's guardian, he
had the right to thus limit his ward's expenditures.

Thus our lad fell into disgrace with his employer, who knew, as well as
any man living, the exact status of the Bell Island iron mine, and had
only requested Cabot to report on it in order to test his fitness for
other work.

While the correspondence with the bank was being carried on, Messrs.
Walling and Gregg watched for the arrival of the young engineer, whom
they expected by every train. They also anxiously awaited the news
that the Hepburn syndicate had withdrawn its offer for the Bell Island
property, in which event it would fall, at a greatly reduced price, to
the company represented by Mr. Gregg.

Totally unconscious of all this, Cabot Grant was at that very time in a
remote corner of the west coast, happily engaged in aiding certain of
its inhabitants to discomfit the combined naval forces of two of the
most powerful governments of the world. Moreover, he had become so
interested in this exciting occupation, as well as in certain
discoveries that he was making, as to have very nearly lost sight of
his intention to visit the capital of the island.

When he reembarked on the "Sea Bee" at St. George's Bay, he fully
intended to catch the train of two days later at the station to which
White had promised to convey him. He was glad of a chance to view some
more of that magnificent west coast scenery, and when the little
schooner finally rounded South Head, and was pointed towards the
massive front of Blomidon, which David Gidge called "Blow-me-down," he
felt well repaid for his delay by the enchanting beauty of the Bay of
Islands that lay outspread before them.

Soon after passing South Head, the "Sea Bee," with flags flying from
both masts, slipped through a narrow passage into the land-locked basin
of Pretty Harbour. On its further shore stood a handful of white
houses, and a larger building that fronted the water.

"That's our factory!" cried White, "and there is our house, on the
hillside, just beyond. See, the one with the dormer windows. There's
Cola waving from one of them now. Bless her! She must have been
watching, to sight us so quickly. Oh, I can't wait. Dave, yo