l be on the scrap heap, ready to sell at scrap price. That's
so. I know. Sachigo will be the biggest thing of its kind in the world
next year, and there won't be any room for the Skandinavia. That's a
reason I hate for you to go back to Peterman--one reason."

"But I'm not going back," Nancy cried vehemently.

Bull stared wide-eyed.

"You're not going back?" he echoed stupidly. Then of a sudden he held
out his hand. "Say, pass that message right over. Why in--Guess I'm
crazy to read it--now."

Nancy held the paper out to him. There was something so amazingly
headlong in his manner. All the girl's apprehensions, all her
depression, were swept away, and a rising excitement replaced them. A
surge of thankfulness rose up in her. At least he would learn that she
had no intention of further treachery to the land of her birth.

"Accept my resignation forthwith."

Bull read the brief message aloud. It was addressed to Peterman, and it
was signed "Nancy McDonald." The force, the coldness of the words were
implacable. He revelled in the phrasing. He revelled in the thing they
conveyed. He looked up. The girl was smiling. She had forgotten
everything but the approval she saw shining in his eyes.

Suddenly he reached out and his great hands came gently down upon her
softly rounded shoulders. It was a wonderful caress. They held her
firmly while he gazed into her eyes.

"Say, Nancy," he cried, in a voice that was deep with emotion. "You mean
that? Those words? You've quit the Skandinavia? What--what are you going
to do?"

"I--I'm going to the forests with Father Adam. I'm going to help the
boys we've so often talked about. I'm--"

"Not on your life!"

The man's denial rang out with all the force of his virile nature.

"Say, listen right here. You've quit them. You've quit Peterman. And you
reckon from one fool play you're going right over to another. No, sir,
not on your life. It's my chance now, and by God I don't pass it. I'm
kind of a rough citizen and don't know the way a feller should say this
sort of stuff. But I'm crazy to marry you and have been that way ever
since you came along, and sat right in this office, and invited me to
take tea in the parlour of that darnation bug, Peterman. Do you know all
that means, Nancy? It means I'm just daft with love for you, and have
been ever since I set eyes on you, for all I had to treat you worse than
a 'hold-up.' Say, my dear, will you give me the chance to show you? Can