u haven't answered the question."

Wyllard waved his hand. "Miss Rawlinson is your bridesmaid, and I'm
Gregory's best man. It seems to me it's my business to do everything
just as he'd like it done."

He left her a moment later, and, though she did not know how she was to
explain the matter to Miss Rawlinson, who was of an independent
disposition, it occurred to her that he, at least, had found a rather
graceful way out of the difficulty. The more she saw of this Western
farmer, the more she liked him.

It was after dinner when she next met him, and, for the wind had
changed, the _Scarrowmania_ was steaming head-on into a glorious
north-west breeze. The shrouds sang; chain-guy, and stanchion, and
whatever caught the wind, set up a deep-toned throbbing; and ranks of
little, white-topped seas rolled out of the night ahead. A half-moon
hung low above them, blurred now and then by wisps of flying cloud, and
odd spouts of spray that gleamed in the silvery light leapt up about
the dipping bows. Wyllard was leaning on the rails, with a cigar in
his hand, when she stopped beside him, and she glanced towards the
lighted windows of the smoke-room not far away.

"How is it you are not in there?" she asked, for something to say.

"I was," said Wyllard. "It's rather full up, and it seemed they didn't
want me. They're busy playing cards, and the stakes are rather high.
In a general way, a steamboat's smoke-room is less of a men's lounge
than a gambling club."

"And you object to cards?"

"Oh, no!" said Wyllard. "They merely make me tired, and when I feel I
want some excitement for my dollars I get it another way. That one
seems tame to me."

"Which is the one you like?"

The man laughed. "There are a good many that appeal to me. Once it
was collecting sealskins off other people's beaches, and there was zest
enough in that, in view of the probability of the dory turning over, or
a gunboat dropping on to you. Then there was a good deal of very
genuine excitement to be got out of placer-mining in British Columbia,
especially when there was frost in the ranges, and you had to thaw out
your giant-powder. Shallow alluvial workings have a way of caving in
when you least expect it of them. After all, however, I think I like
the prairie farming best."

"Is that exciting?"

"Yes," said Wyllard, "if you do it in one way. The gold's there--that
you're sure of--piled up by nature during I don't know how many
thousan