rning me, and yet, as long as
Grace remained Miss Carrington, I could not give up hope, and it was that
very hope that added force to every stroke of the glinting axe or another
hour of toil to the weary day. And so, while spring melted into summer, I
worked and waited until fate intervened.

Now between the mining town and Cedar the river loses itself in a gloomy
canyon, one of those awful gorges which are common among the mountains of
British Columbia. Two great rocks partly close the entrance, and beyond
this the chasm is veiled in spray, while its roar when the floods race
through it can be heard several miles away. Scarcely a ray of sunlight
enters its shadowy depths, and looking up from beside the entrance one can
see the great pines that crown the sheer fall of rock looming against the
skyline in a slender lace-like filigree. Sometimes, when frost bound fast
the feeding snows, the Siwash Indians ran their light canoes through, but
I never heard of a white man attempting the passage, and one glance was
sufficient to show the reason. I understood it better when as by a miracle
I came alive out of the canyon.

It was a still evening, and again the afterglow flamed behind the western
pines, when, holding Caesar's rein, I stood under a hemlock talking to
Grace Carrington. We had been compelled to wait for more ironwork, and I
made the long journey on the specious excuse of visiting a certain
blacksmith who was skilled in sharpening tools. Calvert's offer of
hospitality was now proving an inestimable boon. Harry pointed out that we
had a man in camp who could do the work equally well, but I found a
temporary deafness convenient then.

"It was very kind of you to suggest it, and if you could get the things in
by your supply train we should be very glad," she said. "I really do not
know whom to write to, and the pack-horse freighters often wet or spoil
them. Aunt and I intend to spend a few days at the Lawrences' ranch, and
you could meet us with the package at the canyon crossing on Thursday
morning."

I glanced at the list she handed me, and wondered what Harry, who had to
visit Vancouver, would say when he found I had pledged him to ransack the
dry-goods stores for all kinds of fabrics. Still, I felt I should have
faced much more than my comrades' remonstrances to please Grace Carrington
then, as she stood beside me, glorified as it were by the garish sunset.

"My aunt will be especially grateful," she added. "And