nd admiration to the fishers and boating
men who frequent that part of the Grey. Of them Kathleen took little
notice. She scrambled back to the sculler's seat, and after a short pull
found herself beside the boat shed.

Tomkins, who kept the boat shed, was smoking his pipe on the landing
stage when Kathleen drifted out from the Gorge. Shading his eyes with a
big, rough hand, he stood watching her in amazement.

"It's Miss O'Connor," he muttered to a man beside him, "and she's come
through alone. She's the last woman I'd have expected to do such a
thing!"

"You never can tell what a woman will do these times. We'll be taking a
back seat in the kitchen before long," answered the other.

"But Miss O'Connor's not that sort," said Tomkins. "What I can't make
out is this: I let that boat to Gerard. What's become of him?"

As Kathleen stepped from the boat, Tomkins greeted her with applause,
seasoned with advice.

"You've done something, miss, that no other woman ever did before. But
never you try it again. Next time you and the boat may come drifting
down, the one after the other."

"I have no intention of trying the Gorge again," answered Kathleen.
"Thank God, I am safe!"

As she was about to leave the shed, to make her amazement more complete,
Gerard rode up on her horse and reined in. His clothes were damp and
clung to him, but he disregarded that. "You have won your wager, Miss
O'Connor!" he cried; "but you went with your life in your hands."

Kathleen was too much astounded by his audacity to reply. He dismounted
and lifted her into the saddle holding her rein for one short moment,
while he said in a low voice:

"You have nothing more to fear from me. You have taught me a lesson,
and, by Jove! you are a well-plucked one."

She did not pause to answer him, but, giving Douglas a cut with the
whip, rode away at a smart canter to "Layton."

CHAPTER XIX.

"THE FREELANCE."

Denis Quirk was a man of courage and energy. He had an almost heroic
disregard of public opinion; if those few whom he loved would give him
their faith, the rest of the world might praise or condemn him at will.
Had it not been that the future of "The Mercury" was imperilled by his
presence, and that Dr. Marsh was interested in the success of the paper,
he would have remained at Grey Town to fight on until the tide had
turned or want of funds compelled him to close down. As it was, he sold
his share to his father for no more than h