her, and decided that she was not yet strong
enough to think of long journeys. Her hands would tremble at times, and
tears, as of weakness, would come to her eyes, and she scarcely appeared
to hear them when they spoke.

She never walked through the woods as of old, though sometimes she would
stand and look up at the dark hills with a perfect hunger in her eyes. And
when the night breeze would creep down from the heights, and carry the
sweet wood scents of the forest to her, she would close her eyes and draw
in long breaths of utter content. The strong love for the wild places was
as second nature to her; yet when Max would ask her to go with him for
flowers or mosses, her answer was always "no."

But she would go to the boat sometimes, though no longer having strength
to use the paddle. It was a good place to think, if she could only keep
the others from going, too, so she slipped away from Max and the women and
went down. A chunky, good-looking fellow was mending one of the canoes,
and raised his head at her approach, nodding to her and evidently pleased
when she addressed him.

"Yes, it is a shaky old tub," he agreed, "but I told Overton I thought it
could be fixed to carry freight for another trip; so he put me at it."

"You are new in camp, aren't you?" she asked, not caring at all whether he
was or not. She was always friendly with the workmen, and this one smiled
and bowed.

"We are all that, I guess," he said. "But I came up the day Haydon and
Seldon came. I lived with Seldon down the country, and was staggered a
little, I tell you, when I found Overton was in charge, and had struck it
rich. But no man deserves good luck more."

"No," she agreed. "Then you knew him before?"

"Yes, indeed--over in Spokane. He don't seem quite the same fellow,
though. We thought he would just go to the dogs after he left there, for
he started to drink heavily. But he must have settled in his own mind that
it wasn't worth while; so here he is, straight as a string, and counting
his dollars by the thousands, and I'm glad to see it."

"Drink! He never drinks to excess, that we know of," she answered.
"Doesn't seem to care for that sort of thing."

"No, he didn't then, either," agreed this loquacious stranger, "but a
woman can drive as good men as him to drink; and that is about the way it
was. No one thought any worse of Overton, though--don't think that. The
worst any one could say was that he was too square--that's all."