do or to endure. The eyes were
large and beautiful, but it was not their beauty which riveted Darrell's
attention; it was their look of wistful appeal, of unsatisfied longing,
which led him at last to murmur, while his eyes moistened,--

"You dear child! How is it that in your short life, surrounded by all
that love can provide, you have come to know such heart hunger as that?"

Long after he had returned to his room those eyes still haunted him,
nor could he banish the conviction that some time, somewhere, in that
young life there had been an unfilled void which in some degree, however
slight, corresponded to the blank emptiness of his own.

The next morning Darrell attended church with Mrs. Dean. The latter was
a strict church-woman, and Darrell, by way of showing equal courtesy to
host and hostess, usually accompanied her in the morning, devoting the
afternoon to Mr. Underwood.

After lunch he and Mr. Underwood seated themselves in one of the sunny
bay-windows for their customary chat, Mrs. Dean having gone to her room
for the afternoon nap which was as much a part of her Sunday programme
as the morning sermon.

For a while they talked of the latest developments at the mines, but Mr.
Underwood seemed preoccupied, gazing out of the window and frowning
heavily. At last, after a long silence, he said, slowly,--

"I expect we're going to have trouble at the camp this season."

"How is that?" Darrell asked quickly, in a tone of surprise.

"Oh, it's some of this union business," the other answered, with a
gesture of impatience, "and about the most foolish proposition I ever
heard of, at that. But," he added, decidedly, "they know my position;
they know they'll get no quarter from me. I've steered clear of them so
far; they've let me alone and I've let them alone, but when it comes to
a parcel of union bosses undertaking to run my business or make terms to
me, I'll fight 'em to a finish, and they know it."

Darrell, watching the face of the speaker, saw the lines about his mouth
harden and his lips settle into a grim smile that boded no good to his
opponents.

"What do they want--higher wages or shorter hours?" he inquired.

"Neither," said Mr. Underwood, shortly, as he re-lighted his pipe. After
a few puffs he continued:

"As I said before, it's the most foolish proposition I ever heard of.
You see, there's five or six camps, all told, in the neighborhood of our
camp up there. One or two of the lot, like the B