had to be firm, but I don't like it, Jim.
Those fellows are what we call bad men."

"I imagine we have been up against worse."

"That's so. All the same, I wish you had been able to leave them
alone."

"I can't leave them alone, because the dyke must cross that corner of
the creek. They're about the meanest whites I've met, and I certainly
don't want them at Bank-end. I'd sooner they took the hundred pounds
and quit."

"How do they live?"

"By wildfowling and fishing, though I'm told they snare rabbits and
poach pheasants."

"Well, I suppose you're giving Shanks his chance of making good. The
trouble is, he's forced to take the chance, whether he wants or not.
Some folks would sooner live like dogs than decent citizens."

"Do you think one ought to indulge their prejudice?"

"I don't," Jake admitted. "It would be bad economy. For all that I'd
watch the fellows."

They let it go and talked about Jim's plans as they crossed the short
grass where the silver-weed spread its carpet of yellow flowers. They
trampled through belts of withered thrift and skirted winding creeks
where tall reeds shook their bent leaves in the searching wind. Light
and shadow sped across the marsh, and a flock of plover, shining white
and black, circled above the sands. Jake got a sense of space and
loneliness he had not expected to feel in England, but he smiled as he
noted Jim's brisk step and the sparkle in his eyes. He knew his
comrade and saw he was happy. The marsh was something to conquer and
the struggle would absorb his energies.

Next day Jim returned to the market town. He was occupied for some
time ordering tools, and driving back in the afternoon, hesitated as he
got near the cross road that led to Whitelees. He wanted to see
Evelyn, and Mrs. Halliday had told him to come when he liked, but it
was perhaps significant that he wanted also to get on with his draining
plans. Seeing Evelyn was a satisfaction he unconsciously reserved for
his leisure; she was not, like Carrie, to some extent his working
partner and critic. He took the road to Whitelees and smiled. Perhaps
Carrie was patient when he thought her keen: it was possible that she
was sometimes bored.

Mrs. Halliday received him in a room that looked full of ornaments and
flowers, and gave him tea in beautiful china. He was half-afraid to
handle the fragile cup and plate and hesitated about eating his slice
of dainty cake. He had been examining mac