ON

More than twelve months had passed since Thurston's first visit to High
Maples, when he stood one morning gazing abstractedly down a misty
valley. Below him a small army of men toiled upon the huge earth
embankments, which, half-hidden by thin haze, divided the river from
the broad swamps behind it. But Geoffrey scarcely saw the men. He was
looking back upon the events of the past year, and was oblivious to the
present. He had made rapid progress in his profession and had won the
esteem of Julius Savine; but he felt uncertain as to how far he had
succeeded in placating Miss Savine. On some of his brief visits to
High Maples, Helen had treated him with a kindliness which sent him
away exultant. At other times, however, she appeared to avoid his
company. Presently dismissing the recollection of the girl with a
sigh, Geoffrey glanced at the strip of paper in his hand. It was a
telegraphic message from Savine, and ran:

"Want you and all the ideas you can bring along at the chalet
to-morrow. Expect deputation and interesting evening."

Savine had undertaken the drainage of the wide valley, which the rising
waters periodically turned into a morass, and had sublet to Geoffrey a
part of the work. Each of the neighboring ranchers who would benefit
by the undertaking had promised a pro-rata payment, and the Crown
authorities had conditionally granted to Savine a percentage of all the
unoccupied land he could reclaim. Previous operations had not,
however, proved successful, for the snow-fed river breached the dykes,
and the leaders of a syndicate with an opposition scheme were not only
sowing distrust among Savine's supporters, but striving to stir up
political controversy over the concession.

Geoffrey did not agree with the contractor on several important points,
but deferred to the older man's judgment. He had, however, already
made his mark, and could have obtained profitable commissions from both
mining companies and the smaller municipalities, had he desired them.

While Geoffrey was meditating, the mists began to melt before a warm
breeze from the Pacific. Sliding in filmy wisps athwart the climbing
pines, they rolled clear of the river, leaving bare two huge parallel
mounds, between which the turbid waters ran. Geoffrey, surveying the
waste of tall marsh grasses stretching back to the forest, knew that a
rich reward awaited the man who could reclaim the swamp. He was
reminded of his first ventu