our father?" he said joyfully.

She smiled pityingly. "It's Tom Flynn. Father's got suthin' else to look
arter. Tom Flynn hasn't."

"And who's Tom Flynn?" he asked, with an odd sensation.

"The man I'm engaged to," she said gravely, with a slight color.

The rose that blossomed on her cheek faded in his. There was a moment of
silence. Then he said frankly, "I owe you some apology. Forgive my folly
and impertinence a moment ago. How could I have known this?"

"You took no more than you deserved, or that Tom would have objected
to," she said, with a little laugh. "You've been mighty kind and handy."

She held out her hand; their fingers closed together in a frank
pressure. Then his mind went back to his work, which he had
forgotten,--to his first impressions of the camp and of her. They both
stood silent, watching the canoe, now quite visible, and the man that
was paddling it, with an intensity that both felt was insincere.

"I'm afraid," he said, with a forced laugh, "that I was a little too
hasty in disposing of your goods and possessions. We could have kept
afloat a little longer."

"It's all the same," she said, with a slight laugh; "it's jest as well
we didn't look too comf'ble--to HIM."

He did not reply; he did not dare to look at her. Yes! It was the same
coquette he had seen last night. His first impressions were correct.

The canoe came on rapidly now, propelled by a powerful arm. In a few
moments it was alongside, and its owner leaped on the platform. It was
the gentleman with his trousers tucked in his boots, the second voice
in the gloomy discussion in the general store last evening. He nodded
simply to the girl, and shook Hemmingway's hand warmly.

Then he made a hurried apology for his delay: it was so difficult to
find "the lay" of the drifted cabin. He had struck out first for the
most dangerous spot,--the "old clearing," on the right bank, with its
stumps and new growths,--and it seemed he was right. And all the rest
were safe, and "nobody was hurt."

"All the same, Tom," she said, when they were seated and paddling off
again, "you don't know HOW NEAR YOU CAME TO LOSING ME." Then she
raised her beautiful eyes and looked significantly, not at HIM, but at
Hemmingway.

When the water was down at "Jules'" the next day, they found certain
curious changes and some gold, and the secretary was able to make a
favorable report. But he made none whatever of his impressions "when
the water was up at '