, passed the danger-mark, and began the upward climb to his
old vigor and pugnacity. Port Agnew, stirred to discussion over the
affray, forgot it within three days, and on the following Monday
morning Donald returned to the woods. The Laird of Tyee carried his
worries to the Lord in prayer, and Nan Brent frequently forgot her
plight and sang with something of the joy of other days.

A month passed. During that month, Donald had visited the Sawdust Pile
once and had written Nan thrice. Also, Mrs. Andrew Daney, hard beset
because of her second experience with the "Blue Bonnet" glance of a
McKaye, had decided to remove herself from the occasions of gossip and
be in a position to claim an alibi in the event of developments. So
she abandoned Daney to the mercies of a Japanese cook and departed for
Whatcom to visit a married daughter. From Whatcom, she wrote her
husband that she was enjoying her visit so much she hadn't the
slightest idea when she would return, and, for good and sufficient
reasons, Daney did not urge her to change her mind.

Presently, Mrs. McKaye and her daughters returned to Port Agnew. His
wife's letters to The Laird had failed to elicit any satisfactory
reason for his continued stay at home, and inasmuch as all three
ladies were deferring the trip to Honolulu on his account, they had
come to a mutual agreement to get to close quarters and force a
decision.

Mrs. McKaye had been inside The Dreamerie somewhat less than five
minutes before her instinct as a woman, coupled with her knowledge as
a wife, informed her that her spouse was troubled in his soul. Always
tactless, she charged him with it, and when he denied it, she was
certain of it. So she pressed him further, and was informed that he
had a business deal on; when she interrogated him as to the nature of
it (something she had not done in years), he looked at her and smoked
contemplatively. Immediately she changed the subject of conversation,
but made a mental resolve to keep her eyes and her ears open.

The Fates decreed that she should not have long to wait. Donald came
home from the logging-camp the following Saturday night, and the
family, having finished dinner, were seated in the living-room. The
Laird was smoking and staring moodily out to sea, Donald was reading,
Jane was at the piano softly playing ragtime, and Mrs. McKaye and
Elizabeth were knitting socks for suffering Armenians when the
telephone-bell rang. Jane immediately left the pia