iously to the first snow-sheds. The
bluffs between were too sheer to accumulate snow, and against the dark
background the vague outlines of the cars passed like shadows; the
electric lights, blazing from the coaches, produced the effect of an
aerial, fiery dragon. Then, in the interval it disappeared, an eastbound
challenged from the lower gorge, and the monster rushed from cover,
shrieking defiance; the pawing clamp of its trucks roused the
mountainside. "There is your last westbound," she said. "If your option
man isn't aboard, he forfeits his bonus. But you will be ahead the three
thousand dollars and whatever improvements he may have made."

Mrs. Weatherbee stood at the mirror fastening a great bunch of violets at
her belt. There was a bouquet of them on the dresser, and a huge bowl
filled with them and relieved by a single red rose stood on the table in
the center of the room. "That is what troubles me," she replied, and
ruffled her brows. "It seems so unjust that he should lose so much; that I
should accept everything without compensating him."

Elizabeth smiled. "I guess he meant to get what he could out of the
investment, but afterwards, when he married and found his wife owned the
adjoining unreclaimed tract, it altered the situation. It called for
double capital and, if he hesitated and it came to a choice, naturally her
interests would swing the balance."

"No doubt," admitted Beatriz. "And in that case,"--she turned from the
mirror to watch the train--"I might deed her a strip of ground where it
was discovered her tract overlapped David's. That would be a beginning."

"See here." Elizabeth turned, and for an instant the motherhood deep in
her softened the masculine lines of her face. "Don't you worry about Lucky
Banks. Perhaps he did go into the project to satisfy his conscience, but
the deal was his, and he had the money to throw away. Some men get their
fun making over the earth. When one place is finished, they lose interest
and go looking for a chance to put their time and dollars into improving
somewhere else. Besides,"--and she took this other woman into her abrupt
and rare embrace--"I happen to know he had an offer for his option and
refused a good price. Now, come, Marcia and Frederic have gone down to the
dining-room, you know. They were to order for us."

But Beatriz was in no hurry. "The train is on the bridge," she said and
caught a quick breath. "Do you hear? It is stopping at the station."