you can't break your word and promise to me because
it happens to strike your fancy. Not for a single minute!"

"If you were a gentleman and a decent man you wouldn't say that."

"I'm not either, by your judgment, so I do say it. I say it again:
you're going to marry me, willingly or unwillingly. Now if after
thinking it over, you want to forget all this and go on as before, all
right. If not, our engagement still holds just the same. You may
release me, but I haven't released you. Remember that. And keep away
from that engineer if you know what's best for you!"

With a scowl he stalked out of the house, leaving a very angry, very
tremulous and very heart-sick girl. The fellow was in truth not a man,
she perceived, but a creature so conscienceless and loathsome that she
seemed contaminated through and through by his touch, his words, and
their previous relations. How grossly he had deceived her as to his
real character! What a horrible future as his wife she had escaped!
Nor was she yet free, for he promised to make an infinity of trouble.

That day she could do nothing. Her father noting her face asked what
was the trouble, and she told him the whole affair.

"I've heard rumors of late about him and was worried," he said. "You
did the only thing, of course. Pay no attention to his words; I'll see
he doesn't annoy you."

It was three or four days afterwards that she called Weir up at the
dam in a desire to hear the voice of a man she knew to be straight and
upright.

"I've wondered if a girl is allowed to look at your dam," she said on
impulse, when they had chatted for a moment. "Father, who was at your
camp to attend an injured man, says you're making famous progress."

"I'd be more than delighted to show you the work. But--I wonder----"

"Don't let what people say disturb you," she replied quickly, divining
his thought. "I've arranged all that." A somewhat obscure remark to
Weir.

"Then come any time--and often. I hope to be able to conduct you
around, the first visit at least. Next week I may not be able to do so
as a committee of directors arrive who'll take my time."

"Oh, indeed," Janet answered, politely.

"A manager has to be directed occasionally, or he may run wild," she
heard, with his laugh.

"I'll come before they do," she said.

Quite as she had announced she did run up to the canyon and go with
Weir over the hillsides and dam, asking questions and displaying a
great interest in the men a