r daughter
Jessie to marry?"

The question was abrupt, startling. And somehow to Ailsa Mowbray it
was as though a fierce winter blast had suddenly descended upon her
heart.

"I--don't think I'd thought about it--seriously," the mother replied
after a pause.

Murray swung about and faced her. His eyes were serious. There could
be no mistaking his earnestness.

"I can't figger how you're going to take what I've got to say, ma'am.
I said the 'thanks' might be all due from me, before we're through. I
don't know. Anyway, I guess I need to get busy right away in the way
it seems to me best."

"You want to marry--Jessie?"

The mother's question came without any enthusiasm. There was even
coldness in it.

"More than anything in the world, ma'am."

The sincerity of the man was in every line of his face. It shone in
the burning depths of his eyes. It rang in the vibrant tones of his
voice.

For a moment the mother glanced about her rather helplessly. Then she
gathered her faculties with an effort.

"Have--have you asked her?"

"No, ma'am."

Ailsa Mowbray further added a helpless gesture with her hands. It
seemed to be the cue the man was awaiting.

"No, ma'am," he reiterated. "I'd have spoken months ago, but--for the
things that's happened. Maybe you won't just get it when I say that
with Allan around the position was clear as day. It was up to me to
leave her folks till I'd asked her. Now it's different. Jessie has no
father behind her. Only her mother. And her mother has no husband
behind her to help her figger her daughter's future right. Now I come
to you, ma'am. Guess I'm a plain man more ways than one. I'm just
thirty-five. I've a goodish stake in this proposition of ours, and can
give your daughter all she needs of the world's goods. I love her, and
want her bad, ma'am. If she'll marry me, why, I'll just do all I know
to make her happy."

The appeal was full of simple, straightforward honesty. There could be
no denying it. Even its crudity was all in its favor. But all this
passed Ailsa Mowbray completely by.

"What made you choose this moment?" she questioned, avoiding any direct
answer.

Murray laughed. It was a laugh which hid his real feelings. He held
up the letter.

"John Kars is coming along up."

"And so you spoke--before he came."

"Sure." Suddenly Murray flung the letter on the desk in a fashion that
said more than words. "I'm scared of John Kars, ma'am,