, but Winston was a clever man,
and felt all the thrill of one playing a risky game just then. Perhaps
it was due to excitement that a readiness he had never fancied himself
capable of came to him in his need, and, when at last the ladies rose,
he felt that he had not slipped perilously. Still, he found how dry
his lips had grown when somebody poured him a glass of wine. Then he
became sensible that Colonel Barrington, who had apparently been
delivering a lengthy monologue, was addressing him.

"The outlook is sufficient to cause us some anxiety," he said. "We are
holding large stocks, and I can see no prospect of anything but a
steady fall in wheat. It is however, presumably a little too soon to
ask your opinion."

"Well," said Winston, "while I am prepared to act upon it, I would
recommend it to others with some diffidence. No money can be made at
present by farming, but I see no reason why we should not endeavor to
cut our losses by selling forward down. If caught by a sudden rally,
we could fall back on the grain we hold."

There was a sudden silence, until Dane said softly, "That is exactly
what one of the cleverest brokers in Winnipeg recommended."

"I think," said Colonel Barrington, "you heard my answer. I am
inclined to fancy that such a measure would not be advisable or
fitting, Mr. Courthorne. You, however, presumably know very little
about the practical aspect of the wheat question."

Winston smiled. "On the contrary, I know a great deal."

"You do?" said Barrington sharply, and while a blunderer would have
endeavored to qualify his statement, Winston stood by it.

"You are evidently not aware, sir, that I have tried my hand at
farming, though not very successfully."

"That at least," said Barrington dryly, as he rose, "is quite
creditable."

When they went into the smaller room, Winston crossed over to where
Maud Barrington sat alone, and looked down upon her gravely. "One
discovers that frankness is usually best," he said. "Now, I would not
like to feel that you had determined to be unfriendly with me."

Maud Barrington fixed a pair of clear brown eyes upon his face, and the
faintest trace of astonishment crept into them. She was a woman with
high principles, but neither a fool nor a prude, and she saw no sign of
dissolute living there. The man's gaze was curiously steady, his skin
clear and brown, and his sinewy form suggested a capacity for, and she
almost fancied an acquaintanc