guess that's about good enough for you."

"You're going to help him!" commented Gillow, ironically. "All things
considered, that's very kind of you."

Next morning Thurston, who summoned the cook and foreman before him,
said: "I want you two to keep what happened last night a close secret,
and while I cannot tell you much, I may say that the man who will
remain in camp was, as you have no doubt guessed, only the cat's paw of
several speculators, whom it wouldn't suit to see our employer, Savine,
successful."

"But mightn't he try the same game again?" asked Mattawa, and Thurston
answered:

"He might, but I hardly think he will. I intend to keep him here under
my own eyes until I want him. There's no particular reason why you
shouldn't see that he earns his wages, Tom. Gillow, it's perhaps not
wholly unfortunate you dropped him into the river."

"Kind of trump ace up your sleeve!" suggested Mattawa, and his master
answered with a smile:

"Not exactly. The other side is quite smart enough to know who holds
the aces; but I fancy the complete disappearance of this few-spot card
will puzzle them. Now, forget all about it. I wouldn't have said so
much, but that I know I can trust you two!"

CHAPTER XV

A GREAT UNDERTAKING

Except for the wail of a wet breeze from the Pacific and the moaning of
the pines outside, there was unusual quietness in the wood-built villa
looking down upon the valley of the Hundred Springs on the night that
the American specialist came up to consult with Savine's doctor from
Vancouver. The master of High Maples had been brought home
unconscious, some days earlier, and had lain for hours apparently on
the point of death. During this time it was Thurston who took control
of the panic-stricken household. It was he who telegraphed Thomas
Savine to bring his wife. He had sent for the famous American
physician and had allayed Helen's fears. When the girl's aunt arrived
he had prevented that lady from undertaking the cure of the patient by
her own prescription. Geoffrey's temper was never very patient, but he
held it well in hand for Helen's sake.

On the night in question, Geoffrey anxiously awaited the physician's
verdict. He was in the library with Thomas Savine, and had made
spasmodic attempts to divert the attention of the kindly, gray-haired
gentleman from the illness of his brother. At last, when the tension
grew almost unbearable, Thomas Savine said:

"They cannot