ould do without either, came out ahead of
them. Market went mad in a day or two over the news of the crushing.
I sold out at a tremendous premium, and started to pay my deposit. I
did it in person, came back with the sealed contract--hadn't eaten
decently or slept more than a few hours in two anxious weeks--went home
triumphant, and collapsed--as I did not long ago--while I told my wife."

There was silence for several minutes inside the tent. Then Geoffrey
said, "I thank you for your confidence, sir, and will respect it, but
even yet I am not quite certain why, considering that you held my
unconditional promise, you gave it me."

"As I said before, I felt like it," answered Savine. "Still, there's
generally a common-sense reason somewhere for what I do, and it may
help you to understand me. I heard of you at your first beginning. I
figured that you were taking hold as I had done before you and thought
I might have some use for a man like you. Perhaps I'll tell you more,
if we both live long enough, some day."

It was in the cool of the evening that Savine and his daughter, who had
been waiting at a house far down the trail, rode back towards the
railroad, leaving Geoffrey puzzled at the uncertain ways of women.

"What do you think of my new assistant, Helen?" asked Savine. "You
generally have a quick judgment, and you haven't told me yet."

"I hardly know," was the answer. "He is certainly a man of strong
character, but there is something about him which repels one--something
harsh, almost sinister, though this would, of course, in no way affect
his business relations with you. For instance, you saw how he lives,
and yet he turned away a countryman who appeared destitute and hungry."

Savine laughed. "You did not see how he lived. The good things in his
tent were part of his business property, handy when some mining
manager, who may want work done, comes along--or perhaps brought in by
mounted messenger for Miss Savine's special benefit. Thurston lives on
pork and potatoes, and eats them with his men. The fellow you pitied
was a lazy tramp. It mayn't greatly matter to you or me, but Thurston
will do great things some day."

"It is perhaps possible," assented Helen. "The men who are hard and
cruel are usually successful. You have rather a weakness, father, for
growing enthusiastic over what you call a live assistant. You have
sometimes been mistaken, remember."

CHAPTER XI

AN INSPIRATI