his mouth, there was a hint of energy about him and he was following the
curves of the railroad with keenly observant eyes. A girl in white dress
of fashionable cut sat near him, holding a green-lined sunshade, for
although they were in the shadow the light was strong. The likeness
between them indicated they were father and daughter.

"I expect you're feeling it pretty hot," Fuller remarked.

"It is not oppressive and I rather like the brightness," the girl
replied. "Besides, it's cool enough about the tent after the sun goes
behind the range. Of course, you are used to the climate."

"I was, but that was twenty-four years ago and before you were born. Got
my first lift with the ten thousand dollars I made in the next state down
this coast, besides the ague and shivers that have never quite left me.
However, it's pretty healthy up here, and I guess it ought to suit Jake
all right."

Ida Fuller looked thoughtful, and her pensive expression added to the
charm of her attractive face. She had her father's keen eyes, but they
were, like her hair, a soft dark-brown; and the molding of brows and nose
and mouth was rather firm than delicate. While her features hinted at
decision of character, there was nothing aggressive in her look, which,
indeed, was marked by a gracious calm. Though she was tall, her figure
was slender.

"Yes," she agreed, "if he would stay up here!"

Fuller nodded. "I'd have to fix him up with work enough to keep him busy,
and ask for a full-length report once a week. That would show me what he
was doing and he'd have to stick right to his job to find out what was
going on."

"Unless he got somebody to tell him, or perhaps write the report. Jake,
you know, is smart."

"You're fond of your brother, but I sometimes think you're a bit hard on
him. I admit I was badly riled when they turned him down from Yale, but
it was a harmless fool-trick he played, and when he owned up squarely I
had to let it go."

"That's Jake's way. You can't be angry with him. Still, perhaps, it's a
dangerous gift. It might be better for him if he got hurt now and then."

Fuller, who did not answer, watched her, as she pondered. Her mother had
died long ago, and Fuller, who was largely occupied by his business, knew
that Jake might have got into worse trouble but for the care Ida had
exercised. He admitted that his daughter, rather than himself, had
brought up the lad, and her influence had been wholly for good. By and by