ion. Do you
still maintain the ancient feud?"

Fyfe shot her a queer look.

"We've grown up, Dolly," he said drily. Then: "Do you expect to get back
to God's country short of a year, Alden?"

That was all. Neither of them reverted to the subject again. But Stella
pondered. An ancient feud? She had not known of that. Neither man had
ever dropped a hint.

For the second incident, Paul Abbey dropped in to dinner a few days
later and divulged a bit of news.

"There's been a shake-up in our combination," he remarked casually to
Fyfe. "Monohan and dad have split over a question of business policy.
Walter's taking over all our interests on Roaring Lake. He appears to be
going to peel off his coat and become personally active in the logging
industry. Funny streak for Monohan to take, isn't it? He never seemed
to care a hoot about the working end of the business, so long as it
produced dividends."

Lastly, Charlie Benton came over to eat a farewell dinner with the
Aldens the night before they left. He followed Stella into the nursery
when she went to tuck Jack Junior in his crib.

"Say, Stella" he began, "I have just had a letter from old man Lander;
you remember he was dad's legal factotum and executor."

"Of course," she returned.

"Well, do you recall--you were there when the estate was wound up, and I
was not--any mention of some worthless oil stock? Some California
wildcat stuff the governor got bit on? It was found among his effects."

"I seem to recall something of the sort," she answered. "But I don't
remember positively. What about it?"

"Lander writes me that there is a prospect of it being salable. The
company is reviving. And he finds himself without legal authority to do
business, although the stock certificates are still in his hands. He
suggests that we give him a power of attorney to sell this stuff. He's
an awfully conservative old chap, so there must be a reasonable prospect
of some cash, or he wouldn't bother. My hunch is to give him a power of
attorney and let him use his own judgment."

"How much is it worth?" she asked.

"The par value is forty thousand dollars," Benton grinned. "But the
governor bought it at ten cents on the dollar. If we get what he paid,
we'll be lucky. That'll be two thousand apiece. I brought you a blank
form. I'm going down with you on the _Bug_ to-morow to send mine. I'd
advise you to have yours signed up and witnessed before a notary at
Hopyard and send it too."