s drift?" A
faint trace of heightened colour crept into her cheeks. "Perhaps one
couldn't blame them when they have once acquired the whisky habit and
a Siwash wife."

Nasmyth lay very still for a few moments, resting on one elbow among
the wineberries, for she had, after all, only suggested a question
that had once or twice troubled him. It was, however, characteristic
of him that he had temporized, and, though he knew it must be answered
some day, had thrust it aside.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, "you want to send me away. Now, I had almost
fancied I had made things easier in various ways for you, and we have
been good comrades, haven't we? One could call it that?"

"Yes," agreed Laura slowly; "I think one could call it that."

"Then," returned Nasmyth, "why do you want me to go?"

It was difficult to answer, and, to begin with, Laura did not exactly
know she desired him to leave the ranch--in fact, she was willing to
admit that there were several reasons why she wished him to stay.
Still, perhaps because she had watched over him in his sickness, and,
so Gordon said, had snatched him back to life again, she had a certain
pride in him, and vaguely felt that. In one sense, he belonged to her.
She would not have him throw away the life she had saved, and she had
recognized, as many of his English friends had not, the perilously
acquiescent side of his character. He was, she feared, one who had an
unfortunate aptitude for drifting.

"That," she said, "is rather more than I could explain either to
myself or to you, but I will tell you something. They are going to
build the pulp-mill down the valley, and they are now asking for
tenders for the construction of the dam. The thing, I have heard, is
not big enough to interest contractors from the cities, and most of
the men round here have their hands full with their ranches."

Nasmyth became a trifle more intent. "Still," he remarked, "I have
never built a dam."

"You told me you were rather a good chopper, and I think you are. You
have made roads, too, and know how to handle giant-powder in the
rock-cutting, and how to use the drill."

"There are shoals of men in this country who know considerably more
about those things than I do."

Laura made a little impatient gesture. "Yes," she admitted, "there
are, but they are simple Bushmen for the most part; and does intellect
count for nothing at all? Are a trained understanding and a quick
comprehension of no use when one buil