g wooden structure which Nora
diagnosed as the "grub shack."

"In your English speech, Mr. Romayne, the dining room of the camp. He is
certainly a hustler," exclaimed Nora, gazing upon the scene before them.

"Who?" inquired Mrs. Waring-Gaunt.

"Ernest Switzer," said Nora, unable to keep the grudge out of her voice.
"It is only a week since I was up here and during that time he has
actually made this village, the streets, the sidewalks--and if that is
not actually a system of water pipes."

"Some hustler, as you say, Miss Nora, eh, what?" said Tom.

"Wonderful," replied Nora; "he is wonderful."

Jack glanced at the girl beside him. It seemed to him that it needed
no mind-reader to interpret the look of pride, yes and of love, in the
wonderful blue-grey eyes. Sick as from a heavy blow he turned away from
her; the flicker of hope that his brother-in-law's words had kindled
in his heart died out and left him cold. He was too late; why try to
deceive himself any longer? The only thing to do was to pull out and
leave this place where every day brought him intolerable pain. But today
he would get all he could, to-day he would love her and win such poor
scraps as he could from her eyes, her smiles, her words.

"Glorious view that," he said, touching her arm and sweeping his hand
toward the mountains.

She started at his touch, a faint colour coming into her face. "How
wonderful!" she breathed. "I love them. They bring me my best thoughts."

Before he could reply there came from behind the grub shack a torrent of
abusive speech florid with profane language and other adornment and in a
voice thick with rage.

"That's him," said Nora. "Some one is getting it." The satisfaction
in her voice and look were in sharp contrast to the look of dismay and
shame that covered the burning face of her sister. From English the
voice passed into German, apparently no less vigorous or threatening.
"That's better," said Nora with a wicked glance at Romayne. "You see he
is talking to some one of his own people. They understand that. There
are a lot of Germans from the Settlement, Freiberg, you know."

As she spoke Switzer emerged from behind the shack, driving before him
a cringing creature evidently in abject terror of him. "Get back to your
gang and carry out your orders, or you will get your time." He caught
sight of the car and stopped abruptly, and, waving his hand imperiously
to the workman, strode up to the party, followed by a