as, though most of those
who did business with him failed to perceive it, a vein of almost
extravagant generosity in Stirling's character.

"Well," said the latter, "isn't the thing plain enough?"

The secretary smiled.

"Oh, yes," he said. "Still, I'm not sure they'll send it over the
wires in quite that form."

His employer agreed to the modification he suggested, and the message
as despatched to Cassidy read simply, "Why are you stopping?"

After that the famous contractor busied himself about other matters
until he got the answer, "No bottom to this swamp."

Then his indignation boiled over, as it sometimes did, for Stirling
was a thick-necked, red-faced man with a fiery temper and an
indomitable will. He had undertaken a good deal of difficult railroad
work in western Canada and never yet had been beaten. What was more to
the purpose, he had no intention of being beaten now, or even delayed,
by a swamp that had no bottom. He had grappled with hard rock and
sliding snow, had overcome professional rivals, and had made his
influence felt by politicians; and, though he had left middle-age
behind, he still retained his full vigor of body and freedom of
speech. When he had explained what he thought of Cassidy he turned
again to his secretary.

"Arrange for a private car," he said. "I'll go along to-morrow and
make them jump."

The secretary, who fancied there would be trouble in the construction
camp during the next few days, felt inclined to be sorry for Cassidy
as he went out to make the necessary arrangements for his employer's
journey west.

Stirling had spent a busy morning when he met his daughter Ida and her
friends at lunch. He did not belong to Ottawa. His offices were in
Montreal; but as Ottawa is the seat of the government he had visited
it at the request of certain railroad potentates and other magnates of
political influence. With him he had brought his daughter and three of
her English friends, for Ida had desired to show them the capital. He
had no great opinion of the man and the two women in question. He said
that they made him tired, and sometimes in confidence to his secretary
he went rather further than that; but at the same time he was willing
to bear with them, if the fact that he did so afforded Ida any
pleasure. Ida Stirling was an unusually fortunate young woman, in so
far, at least, as that she had only to mention any desire that it was
in her father's power to gratify. He was a stre