ious, but I've thought about you since the night of the blizzard
when we came to your shack."

Jim indicated his party. "I want you to know my Canadian friends; I
owe them much. Mrs. and Miss Winter from Vancouver city, and my
partner, Jake."

Mrs. Halliday had studied the group, but she gave them another glance.
She thought Mrs. Winter was not important. The thin, tired woman was
of a common type and had obviously come from a rude Canadian town: Mrs.
Halliday did not know much about Vancouver. The girl, however, had
individuality and a touch of beauty; Mrs. Halliday felt she must be
reckoned on. The young man puzzled her, because she could not place
him. In some ways, he looked like a rather superior workman, but he
was unembarrassed, and although he waited calmly, she imagined he was
amused. On the whole, they were not the guests one generally received
at an English country house, but Mrs. Halliday knew her duty and
welcomed them with a gracious air.

They went in and Jim heard with satisfaction that the others meant to
dine with him, because he wanted to talk with Evelyn. He came down as
soon as he could, hoping he might find her in the hall, but nobody was
there and for some minutes he looked about. The hall occupied the
lower story of the tower. It was square, and roughly-hewn beams,
slightly curved, crossed the ceiling. The spaces between were paneled
with dark wood and an oak wainscot ran round the wall. Half of one
side was occupied by a big fireplace and its old, hand-forged irons.
The carved frame and mantel were Jacobean and obviously newer than the
rest. The old windows, however, had been enlarged and a wide casement
admitted a cold light.

By and by, Mordaunt came in. The latter was thin and dark; his face
was rather inscrutable, but he had a superficial urbanity. Jim
wondered what lay beneath this, and imagined it might be long before he
found out. Until he got down from the train, they had not met since
Mordaunt came to the telegraph shack, and Jim did not know if he liked
the fellow or not. After a time, there was a step on the stairs that
went up the wall, and Jim looked up, half expecting to see Evelyn. At
first he was conscious of some disappointment, for Carrie was coming
down.

"By George!" said Mordaunt, softly.

Jim understood the exclamation, for he had not until now realized that
Carrie was beautiful. Her color was rather high and her face looked
strangely clean-cut ag