"I have sufficient for my present needs," she replied. "Mr. Daney has
paid me for the loss of my motor-boat, you know. You are very kind;
but I think I shall have no need to impose further on your generosity.
I think the twenty-five hundred dollars will last me nicely until I
have made a new start in life."

"Ah!" The Laird breathed softly, "Twenty-five hundred dollars. Yes,
yes! So he did; so he did! And are you leaving Port Agnew
indefinitely, Nan?"

"Forever," she replied. "We have robbed you of the ground for a
drying-yard for nearly ten years, but this morning the Sawdust Pile is
yours."

"Bless my soul!" The Laird ejaculated. "Why, we are not at all in
distress for more drying-space."

"Mr. Daney intimated that you were. He asked me how much I would take
to abandon my squatter's right, but I declined to charge you a single
cent." She smiled up at him a ghost of her sweet, old-time whimsical
smile. "It was the first opportunity I had to be magnanimous to the
McKaye family, and I hastened to take advantage of it. I merely turned
the key in the lock and departed."

"Daney has been a trifle too zealous for the Tyee interests, I fear,"
he replied gently. "And where do you plan to live?"

"That," she retorted, still smilingly, "is a secret. It may interest
you, Mr. McKaye, to know that I am not even leaving a forwarding
address for my mail. You see, I never receive any letters of an
important nature."

He was silent a moment, digesting this. Then,

"And does my son share a confidence which I am denied?"

"He does not, Mr. McKaye. This is my second opportunity to do the
decent thing toward the McKaye family--so I am doing it. I plan to
make rather a thorough job of it, too. You--you'll be very kind and
patient with him, will you not? He's going to feel rather badly, you
know, but, then, I never encouraged him. It's all his fault, I
think--I tried to play fair--and it was so hard." Her voice sunk to a
mere whisper. "I've always loved Donald, Mr. McKaye. Most people do;
so I have not regarded it as sinful on my part."

"You are abandoning him of your own free will--"

"Certainly. I have to. Surely you must realize that?"

"Yes, I do. I have felt that he would never abandon you." He opened
and closed his big hands nervously, and was plainly a trifle distrait.
"So--so this is your idea of playing the game, is it?" he demanded
presently. She nodded. "Well," he replied helplessly, "I would to God
I dared be as