hese conditions, pray?" the young woman asked, turning
and facing her father, who sat watching her every move and gesture.

"First of all, he must do something; and do it off his own bat. His old
father spent his last dollar to educate this young rascal, to equip him
for the battle of life, and his sole achievement is a curve that nobody
can find. Now I insist he shall do something, and I have given him five
years for the work."

"Five years!" she gasped, as she lost herself in a big chair.

"He is to have time to forget you, and you are to have ample opportunity
to forget him, which you will doubtless do, for you are not to meet or
communicate with each other during this period of probation."

"Did he promise this?"

"Upon his honor."

"And if he break that promise?"

"Ah, then he would be without honor, and you would not marry him." A
moment's silence followed, broken by a long, deep sigh that ended in
little quivering waves, like the faint ripples that reach the
shore,--the whispered echoes of the sobbing sea.

"O father, it is cruel! _cruel! cruel!_" she cried, raising a tearful
face to him.

"It is justice, stern justice; to you, my dear, to myself, and this fine
young fellow who has stolen your heart. Let him show himself worthy of
you, and you have my blessing and my fortune."

"Is he going soon?"

"He is gone."

The young woman knelt by her father's chair and bowed her head upon his
knee, quivering with grief.

This stern man, who had humped himself and made a million, put a hand on
her head and said:

"Ma-Mary"--and then choked up.

II

The tent boy put a small white card down on General Dodge's desk one
morning, upon which was printed:

J. BRADFORD, C.E.

The General, who was at that time chief engineer in charge of the
construction of the first Pacific Railroad, turned the bit of pasteboard
over. It seemed so short and simple. He ran his eyes over a printed
list, alphabetically arranged, of directors, promoters, statesmen,
capitalists, and others who were in the habit of signing "letters of
recommendation" for young men who wanted to do something and begin well
up the ladder.

There were no Bradfords. Burgess and Blodgett were the only B's, and the
General was glad. His desk was constantly littered with the "letters" of
tenderfeet, and his office-tent filled with their portmanteaus, holding
dress suits and fine linen.

Here was a curiosity--a man with no press notices, no cha