ed over to pick it up her eyes caught the
sentence: "I love her, Jack, more than I can tell you, more than I can
tell anybody, more than I can tell myself. It's the most important,
the most stupendous thing--" She hastily turned that letter over and
was very careful to have it lying upon her lap, back upward, exactly as
he had left it there, and when he came back she was very, very careful
indeed to hand it nonchalantly over to him, with the sketch uppermost.

"Of course," he said, looking around him comprehensively, "this is only
a day-dream, so far. It may be impossible to realize it."

"Why?" she asked, instantly concerned. "This project _must_ be carried
through! It is already as good as completed. It just must be done. I
never before had a hand, even in a remote way, in planning a big thing,
and I couldn't bear not to see this done. What is to prevent it?"

"I may not be able to get the land," returned Sam soberly. "It is
probably owned by half a dozen people, and one or more of them is
certain to want exorbitant prices for it."

"It certainly can't be very valuable," she protested. "It isn't fit
for anything, is it?"

"For nothing but the building of Lake Jo," he agreed. "Right now it is
worthless, but the minute anybody found out I wanted it it would become
extremely valuable. The only way to do would be to see everybody at
once and close the options before they could get to talking it over
among themselves."

"What time is it?" she demanded.

He looked at his watch.

"Ten-thirty," he said.

"Then let's go and see all these people right away," she urged, jumping
to her feet.

He smiled at her enthusiasm, but he was none loath to accept her
suggestion.

"All right," he agreed. "I wish they had telephones here in the woods.
We'll simply have to walk over to Meadow Brook and get an auto."

"Come on," she said energetically, and they started out on the road.
They had not gone far, however, when young Tilloughby, with Miss
Westlake, overtook them in a trap. He reined up, and Miss Westlake
greeted the pedestrians with frigid courtesy. Jack Turner had
accidentally dropped her a hint. Now that she had begun to appreciate
Mr. Tilloughby--Bob--at his true value, she wondered what she had ever
seen in Sam Turner--and she never had liked Josephine Stevens!

"Gug-gug-gug-glorious day, isn't it?" observed Tilloughby, his face
glowing with joy.

"Fine," agreed Sam with enthusiasm. "There never