d laid her hand upon his arm.
"After all, I suppose you must go. Derrick, you won't stay away very
long!"

They went into the drawing-room together, and half an hour had passed
when Mrs. Acton beckoned to Nasmyth, and he followed her into an
adjoining alcove. She sat down and looked at him reproachfully.

"I am very angry with you," she asserted; "in fact, I feel distinctly
hurt. You have not come up to my expectations."

"I'm sorry," replied Nasmyth quietly. "Still, I'm not astonished. Your
indignation is perfectly natural. I felt at the time Mr. Acton made me
the offer that he had been prompted by you. That"--and he made a
deprecatory gesture--"is one reason why I'm especially sorry I
couldn't profit by it."

Mrs. Acton sat silent a moment or two, regarding him thoughtfully.
"Well," she declared, "from now I am afraid you must depend upon
yourself. I have tried to be your friend, and it seems that I have
failed. Will you be very long at the canyon?"

"If all goes as I expect it, six months. If not, I may be a year, or
longer. I shall certainly not come back until I am successful."

"That is, of course, in one sense the kind of decision I should expect
you to make. It does you credit. Unfortunately, I'm not sure that it's
wise."

Nasmyth looked at her with quick apprehension. "I wonder," he said,
"if you would tell me why it isn't?"

Mrs. Acton appeared to weigh her words, "My views are, naturally, not
always correct," she answered. "Even if they were, I should scarcely
expect you to be guided by them. Still, I think it would not be wise
of you to stay away very long."

She rose, and smiled at him. "It is advice that may be worth taking.
Now I must go back to the others."

Nasmyth pushed aside the portieres for her, and then sauntered into
the hall, where in a very thoughtful mood, he sat down by the fire.

CHAPTER XXVI

ONE NIGHT'S TASK

Daylight was dying out in a flurry of whirling snow, when Nasmyth, who
led a jaded horse, floundered down from the steep rock slopes of the
divide into the shelter of the dark pines about the head of the gully.
It was a little warmer there, and he was glad of it, for he was
chilled, in spite of the toilsome climb. The dark boughs wailed above
him, tossing athwart his path a haze of sliding snow, but he caught a
faint and reassuring clink of drills, and straightened himself as he
clambered down between the trees. The sound had a bracing effect on
him, and he f