was
the memory of her flushed face and tossing hair as she had defied her
aunt and Ramos in order to help two men whom she had seen for only a
few minutes before.

Payne had roamed much and had never had any thought or feelings for a
new country save as a scene for his activity, for achievement. He had
never loved. As he lay on his rude couch under the open sky and
realized how mistaken was his investment he wondered why he did not
feel unduly depressed or disturbed. He had made a poor business deal,
and good business sense dictated that he should try to get out of it
with as little loss as possible and get into something new. The spirit
of business adventure in him, which constantly urged him to seek new
fields for his ventures, had led him to make mistakes ere this.

He had never wasted time upon his errors, either in deploring them or
in deceiving himself that he could turn them to advantage, but had
promptly put them behind him, credited something to experience, and
started anew upon the road of achievement. This was what he should do
now. Better to lose his investment than waste his time upon a doubtful
if not hopeless proposition. But when he recalled the unanswered
questions which the girl had directed at her aunt, he knew that in this
instance he was not going to do anything of the sort. Having accepted
this as a fact he closed his eyes to the soft, intimate stars above the
palmettos and went to sleep.

In the morning, when the water and grass were still vivid with the
reflection of the multi-colored dawn, Payne and Higgins were out in
Willy High Pockets' canoe, cruising the thousand acres Payne had
bought. The piece lay mainly to the southwest of Deer Hammock.

"That hammock is the northeast corner post of the Prairie Highlands
Company's land," said Payne, studying his map. "I got the corner
thousand in a square chunk. Do you see a pine wood, Higgins?"

"There's something down there, straight west of the hammock that might
be it."

Payne swept a westward line with his glasses and nodded. "Looks like
it. A pine island, I suppose. Now the southern line runs to a growth
of cypress, two of immense size. I can pick them out too. We'll go
down the south line first."

Halfway toward the cypress trees the dugout grounded hopelessly, and
they left it and waded through six inches of water the remainder of the
distance.

"They're honest about their marks at least," said Payne when they had
rea