nosyllable,
but as he swung about upon his stool, bending over the box of
cigarettes which he swept up, Conniston thought that he saw a little
twitch as of pain about the sensitive lips. Not understanding, feeling
at once that he would like to say something and not knowing what to
say, he went slowly to the door. As he was going out Garton called to
him, his voice and face alike as cheerful as they had been throughout
the afternoon.

"I say, Conniston. Remember me to Miss Argyl, will you? She's a
glorious girl. I never saw her match. She's got the same capability
for doing big things that her father has. I said the other day that he
was the whole brain and brawn of this war for reclamation. I ought to
have been kicked. Do you know that the whole project, from its
inception, has been as much hers as his? Why, that girl has ridden
over every foot of this valley, knows it like a book. Dam Number
Three, that auxiliary dam, is her idea. And a rattling good idea, too.
The men call it 'Miss Argyl's Dam.' Better brush up on your
engineering before you talk reclamation with her, old man. She's read
all the books I've got. A glorious girl, Conniston."

Conniston came back into the room.

"See here, Garton," he said, gently. "Why don't you come along. She
told me that she wanted you, that she had asked you and--"

Garton waved an interrupting hand, smiling quickly. But Conniston saw
that his face looked tired.

CHAPTER XV

At Conniston's knock Argyl's voice from somewhere in the back of the
cottage called "Come in!" He opened the door, went through the cozy
sitting-room, which was scarcely larger than the fire-place at the
range-house, and at a second invitation found his way into the rear
room. There an oil-stove was shooting up its yellow flames about a
couple of stew-pans, and there Argyl herself, in blue gingham apron,
her sleeves rolled up on her plump, white arms, was completing
preparations for the evening meal. She turned to nod to Conniston and
then back to her cooking.

"You'll find a chair in the corner," she told him, as he stopped in
the doorway, looking amusedly at her. "That is, of course, if you care
to call on the cook? Otherwise you will find cigars and a last month's
paper in the sitting-room."

"There isn't any otherwise," he laughed back at her. And after a
moment, in which she was very busy over the stove and he very content
to stand and watch her: "We're even now. Last time we were here I