he
replied; "but some men never get it."

"Yes, they do; yes, they do," he asseverated. "They get it, all right.
Only some of them don't know it when it comes; and others are ashamed
to own up that they've missed it. We all get it, I tell you, sooner or
later."

"It may come too late to some."

"No, no, it comes in time if a man is wide awake. It's about the only
square deal creation gives him. And it's about all creation owes him.
It's right up to them then. If he's asleep, it's his own fault. I don't
say it doesn't happen more than once; but it does happen once."

Plainly he was in deep earnest. He had no tolerance of failure, no
excuse for it. According to his theory, every man at some time was
master of his fate.

"Have you had your chance?" she asked.

"Not the big chance that I want. I've done some good work, here and
there. But the big thing is coming to me. I feel it. And I'm in shape
to handle it, too. When I do that, I'll quit working for other people.
I'll work for myself. Yes, by George! they can come to me."

Sheila laughed at him. His absolute cocksureness was too ridiculous.
But in spite of herself she was impressed by the sincerity of his
belief in himself. And she realized that opportunity was apt to knock
at the door of a man who believed in his own capacity for success and
let others know it.

"I probably make you tired," said Farwell. "You asked me, and I told
you. I'm not worrying about _my_ future. Now, let's talk about yours.
You were away when I was here last week."

"Yes, I was over at Chakchak."

"That's Dunne's ranch. Your mother said you were helping him choose
some things from a mail-order catalogue."

"Furniture, linen, dishes, and a lot of other things." There was no
embarrassment in her tone.

"Oh!" said Farwell; and as he uttered the word it resembled a growl.
"Well, when is it to be?"

"When is what to be?"

"Why, the wedding, of course."

"What wedding?" She laid down her work and stared at him. Then she
laughed, though the colour surged to her cheeks. "Oh, I see. You think
I was choosing these things for Mr. Dunne's prospective bride?"

"Of course."

"Not a bit of course--unless Casey has deceived me shamefully. Can't a
man furnish his house better without having a wedding in view?"

"He can, but usually he doesn't. That's my experience."

"I wasn't aware that you were married."

"Married?" cried Farwell. "Me? I'm not. I'm glad of it. I have enough
to worry