had been a fool, but he could pay. The trouble
was, Evelyn was clever and might find him out. His face went grim as
he thought about it; the strain of pretending, the effort to be kind.
For all that, the effort must be made, and perhaps by and by things
would be easier.

For a week he was quiet and moody and tried to occupy himself at the
dyke. The evenings were the worst, because it soon got dark and he
must talk to Jake and Carrie and try to look calm. Then he was puzzled
about other things. Evelyn had gone to London and had not written to
him. A few days afterwards, Dick, too, went to town, and Mrs. Halliday
did not know why he had gone. Jim thought this strange, but it was not
important.

Coming home one evening from the marsh, he found Dick with the others
in the hall. It was nearly dark, but there was a bright fire and
Carrie was making tea. Dick kneeled on the rug, toasting muffins on a
long fork, and laughed when Carrie bantered him about being afraid to
scorch his hands. Jim envied Dick, and remembered with poignant regret
the days when he had helped Carrie by the camp-fire in the woods. Then
Dick looked up and Jim thought him embarrassed.

"Hallo, Dick!" he said. "When did you get back?"

Dick said he arrived in the morning, and Jim asked if he had met Evelyn
in town.

"I did," Dick replied. "She was pretty well, but it's two or three
days since. She said she'd write to you."

Jim nodded. Dick's voice was careless, but Jim thought his
carelessness was forced. Then he turned to Carrie. "Did the postman
call?"

"Yes," said Carrie. "Your mail is on the table."

Jim got the letters and lighting a lamp sat down in an easy-chair. The
envelope with the London postmark was from Evelyn, but he would sooner
read her note when he was alone. He opened another and presently
looked up.

"Martin has written to me from Vancouver. The Irrigation Company has
won the lawsuit and proved its claim to the water-rights. The shares
are going up again, and Martin's hopeful about the future. I can sell
out for face value, but he urges me to hold."

"Ah," said Carrie, "that's good news! You can trust Martin. I expect
the company has straightened up because they made him a director."

"It's very possible. He sends your mother and you greetings and hopes
you haven't forgotten him."

"One doesn't forget men like that," Carrie replied. "Martin's all
white; clever and strong and straight. But doesn