y knows Monohan. They've clashed
before, so I've been told. Jack probably saw what was growing on you,
and I don't think he'd hesitate to tell Monohan to walk away around. If
he did,--or if you definitely turned Monohan down; you see I'm rather in
the dark,--he'd go to any length to play even with. Fyfe. When Monohan
wants anything, he looks upon it as his own; and when you wound his
vanity, you've stabbed him in his most vital part. He never rests then
until he's paid the score. Father was always a little afraid of him. I
think that's the chief reason for selling out his Roaring Lake interests
to Monohan. He didn't want to be involved in whatever Monohan
contemplated doing. He has a wholesome respect for your husband's rather
volcanic ability. Monohan has, too. But he has always hated Jack Fyfe.
To my knowledge for three years,--prior to pulling you out of the water
that time,--he never spoke of Jack Fyfe without a sneer. He hates any
one who beats him at anything. That ruction on the Tyee is a sample.
He'll spend money, risk lives, all but his own, do anything to satisfy a
grudge. That's one of the things that worries me. Charlie will be into
anything that Fyfe is, for Fyfe's his friend. I admire the spirit of the
thing, but I don't want our little applecart upset in the sort of
struggle Fyfe and Monohan may stage. I don't even know what form it will
ultimately take, except that from certain indications he'll try to make
Fyfe spend money faster than he can make it, perhaps in litigation over
timber, over anything that offers, by making trouble in his camps,
harassing him at every turn. He can, you know. He has immense resources.
Oh, well, I'm satisfied, Stella, that you're a much wiser girl than I
thought when I knew you'd left Jack Fyfe. I'm quite sure now you aren't
the sort of woman Monohan could wind around his little finger. But I'm
sure he'll try. You'll see, and remember what I tell you. There, I think
I'd better run along. You're not angry, are you, Stella?"

"You mean well enough, I suppose," Stella answered. "But as a matter of
fact, you've made me feel rather nasty, Linda. I don't want to talk or
even think of these things. The best thing you and Charlie and Jack Fyfe
could do is to forget such a discontented pendulum as I ever existed."

"Oh, bosh!" Linda exclaimed, as she drew on her gloves. "That's sheer
nonsense. You're going to be my big sister in three months. Things will
work out. If you felt you had