his might not be the human solution of that loneliness which
he had admitted to her, months before, was only so far assuaged by
driving himself to the uttermost. Then her voice came in again.

"It was so queer meeting you here, just as if the voice of the rapids
had carried a hundred miles. I always associate you with the rapids."

"But they'll go on forever, and I won't."

"You're doing something better than that," she said swiftly.

He laid down his paddle. "I'd like very much to know just what my new
friend means."

"You're touching the hidden springs of things that will go on forever."
Elsie's voice was vibrant with feeling. "That's the difference between
you and other men I know. You're in the secret."

Clark drew a long breath. "When did you decide that, and why?"

"When I heard about your speech that first night. I was only seventeen
then but I felt almost as if you'd told me the secret. So I've
followed all you've accomplished since, and I would give anything to
have done just the littlest part of it."

"So it's just a matter of recognizing one's destiny and following it?"
he said curiously.

"Just that." Complete conviction was in her tones.

"Then, for the first time in my life, I'm wondering what destiny has in
store for the immediate future," he said with a long stare of his gray
eyes, and in them was that which set her heart throbbing.

"You must go to-morrow?" she ventured. Could such wonderful moments
ever be repeated?

"Yes, at sunrise, and I'll be at the works at noon. Do you know that
you've done a lot for me? It's a selfish remark, but it's true, and
may we have another talk when you get back?"

Her lips trembled, and Clark, gazing at her, felt an intense yearning.
She was very beautiful and very understanding. Then again he
hesitated. There were things, many things, he had in mind to arrange
before he spoke. A few weeks would make no difference, but only
prolong those delightful and undecipherable sensations to which he now
yielded luxuriously. If this was love, he had never known love before.

The sun's red orb was thrusting up over the glassy lake when, next
morning, the big tug with a slow thudding of her propeller, moved from
her anchorage. At Clark's orders they passed on down the channel, and
just where the lake began to broaden was a cluster of white tents. Two
Indians were warming their fingers at a rekindled fire. Clark stared
hard, and lifted his hat.

O