elf for her own
senseless confusion, which had led her into saying the one thing she
least of all had wanted to voice. Even an inane remark concerning the
weather would have been better than that girlish naivete which she felt
seemed to force upon him, too, a recollection of the very letter of a
promise which had, no doubt, long since become in his mind nothing but
a quaint episode not untinged with absurdity.

She realized that her hand still lay in his; she grew hotly conscious
of her father's rather perplexed survey of the tableau. And in that
instant when Allison's first words reached her burning ears, even
before Steve could reply to her greeting, she wrung free her fingers
with an abruptness which, when she remembered it afterward, only added
to her fury at her absurd confusion.

"Hum-m-m," puffed Allison. "Hum-m-m!" He spoke directly to Stephen
O'Mara, who half turned his head at the first heavily facetious
syllable. "So you did get my message, eh? I rather thought that it
wouldn't reach you, up-river, until to-day." An ample smile embraced
the tall figure in riverman's garb and his own daughter's crimson
countenance--a most meaningful smile of roguery. "Well, from what I've
heard," he stated, "and what I've . . . seen, I should say that you are
my man, O'Mara. Mr. Elliott himself has informed me that your quite
spectacular success in one or two vital campaigns has been entirely due
to the fact that you are an--er--opportunist! I agree with Mr.
Elliott, absolutely--that is, if my first premise is correct."

And his laughter rumbled softly.

Barbara's face had cooled a little in that moment since Steve's eyes
had left her face. Now she forgot her confusion--forgot to be annoyed,
even at her father's clumsy banter.

"_Your_ man, O'Mara!" she exclaimed indignantly. "_Your_ man! Why,
he--he's _my_--" and that was as far as she went.

Her voice thinned into nothingness, but words were not necessary to
tell either Caleb or Steve that she had been about to assert a prior
claim which dated back years and years.

The man whose smile was still that of the boy turned slowly back to
Barbara. His quiet mirth, which crinkled the corners of his eyelids,
seemed totally detached and impersonal; and yet it hinted, too, at an
intimate enjoyment of the situation which they alone could appreciate.
Steve merely held out his hand again and took her slim fingers within
his own.

"I have always insisted to Mr. Ell