nd so the project
fails. Those New Yorkers will wait too long if ever they do put up the
funds; and I can do nothing myself. The uncompleted ditch will remain
simply a scar on the mesa."

"I never dreamed you were in this strait!"

"No, probably not. One always hopes to the last that somehow--by a
credulous belief in one's own letter of credit with Providence, I
presume--one will pull through. So I delayed telling you of what was
impending."

"If--perhaps father----"

"Your father? No. Above all persons, no. That's a suggestion I can't
consider for an instant."

"But what will you do?" she exclaimed, nervously.

Lee glanced at her, then compressed his lips.

"I'm going away; I couldn't stay here on the scene of this disaster.
It would be intolerable. Before long people will be describing the
unfinished project by the name of 'Bryant's Folly', or the like.
Haven't you seen old, windowless structures that were never completed,
or grass-grown railroad enbankments never ironed, or rusting mine
machinery never assembled? Men's failures, men's 'follies'."

"Lee, Lee! It never will be so!" she cried. "Nor will your project be
a failure to me who have known how you've striven and sacrificed."

Bryant looked past her and about the room, but his eyes in the end
came back to hers.

"You have always been generous in your thoughts of me," he said, in an
unsteady voice.

"No more than you deserved."

"Listen, Louise," he went on, after a pause. "This is the last time I
shall see you for a long time, possibly for all time, and it's of your
kindness I wish to speak--and of another matter. Of course, I
shouldn't be quite human if I hadn't complained a bit about this blow,
but my complaints are done now. I'll possibly do some grimacing to
myself hereafter, though. What I came to say is that wherever I go in
the future I'll always carry with me as a treasure the memory of your
goodness and of your face."

Louise's lips had parted, while the colour slowly receded from her
cheeks.

"But we shall see each other," she gasped. "We'll meet, we can keep in
touch." After a silence there came in a whisper, "Friends should."

Bryant began to tremble. He turned away from her in order to gaze into
the fire. Her low utterance had wrung the chords of his heart; he
dared not allow his eyes to continue to dwell upon her face.

"What good in that?" he asked. Then he gave a passionate shake of his
head. "The risk for me is too great.