her margin of
profit, hoping that, with the admixture of a pinch of saleratus,
she would prove tender enough to tempt the appetite of a
lumberjack, but, upon sober second thought, it seems the part of
wisdom to let her live.

We honor and respect you, Donald. You are so very dear to us that
we wish to cherish always your good opinion of us; we want
everybody in Port Agnew to think of you as we do. People will
misunderstand and misconstrue your loyalty to the old friends of
your boyhood if you dare admit your friendship. Indeed, some have
already done so. I thank you for the books and the candy, but
with all my heart I am grateful to you for a gift infinitely more
precious but which is too valuable for me to accept. I shall have
to treasure it at a distance. Sometimes, at colors, you might
wave to

Your old friend,

NAN BRENT.

Her letter completed, she sealed it in a plain white envelop, after
which she changed into her best dress and shoes and departed up-town.

Straight to the mill office of the Tyee Lumber Company she went, her
appearance outside the railing in the general office being the signal
for many a curious and speculative glance from the girls and young men
at work therein. One of the former, with whom Nan had attended high
school, came over to the railing and, without extending a greeting,
either of word or smile, asked, in businesslike tones,

"Whom do you wish to see?"

In direct contrast with this cool salutation, Nan inclined her head
graciously and smilingly said:

"Why, how do you do, Hetty? I wonder if I might be permitted a minute
of Mr. Daney's time."

"I'll see," Hetty replied, secretly furious in the knowledge that she
had been serenely rebuked, and immediately disappeared in the general
manager's office. A moment later, she emerged. "Mr. Daney will see
you, Miss Brent," she announced. "First door to your right. Go right
in."

"Thank you very much, Hetty."

Andrew Daney, seated at a desk, stood up as she entered.

"How do you do, Nan?" he greeted her, with masculine cordiality, and
set out a chair. "Please be seated and tell me what I can do to oblige
you."

A swift scrutiny of the private office convinced her that they were
alone; so she advanced to the desk and laid upon it the letter she had
addressed to Donald McKaye.

"I would be grateful, Mr. Daney, if you would see that Mr. Donald
McKaye