brightness of his countenance was not
accounted for by his answer: "I believe she has treated me with it once
or twice already, and I still survive. In fact, I am inclined to think
the doctor caught her red-handed on one occasion, and there was
trouble."

After that Geoffrey recovered vigor rapidly, and the days passed
quickly for Helen as she watched over him in the dilapidated frame
house to which he had been removed after the accident. No word of love
passed between them, nor was any word necessary. The man, still weak
and languid, appeared blissfully contented to enjoy the present, and
Helen, who was glad to see him do so, abided her time.

Meanwhile, supported by sheer force of will and a nervous exaltation,
that would vanish utterly when the need for it ceased, Julius Savine,
leaning on his foreman's arm, or sitting propped up in a rude jumper
sleigh, directed operations in the canyon. He knew he was consuming the
vitality that might purchase another few years' life in as many weeks
of effort, but he desired only to see the work finished, and was
satisfied to pay the price. He slept little and scarcely ate, holding
on to his work with desperate purpose and living on cordials. Though
progress was much slower than it would have been under Geoffrey's
direction, he accomplished that purpose.

One afternoon Thomas Savine entered the sick man's room in a state of
complacent satisfaction.

"Glad to see you getting ahead so fast, and you must hurry, for we'll
want you soon," he said. "The great charge is to be fired the day
after to-morrow. Shackleby, who was at the bottom of the whole
opposition, has cleared out with considerable expedition. Sold all his
stock in the Company, and if his colleagues knew much about his doings,
which is quite possible, they emphatically disown them. As a result
I've made one or two good provisional deals with them, and expect no
more trouble. In short, everything points to a great success."

When Savine went out Geoffrey beckoned Helen to him.

"I am getting so well that you must leave me to your aunt to-morrow,"
he said. "You remember your promise to fire the decisive charge for
me, and I hope when you see it you will approve of the electric firing
key. Tell your father I owe more to him than the doctor, for I should
have worried myself beyond the reach of physic if he had not been there
to take charge instead of me--that is to say, before you came to cure
me."

"I wi