ou want to save," he exclaimed. "The incredible thing
is that people have managed to stay on it at all!"

"They will stay," I assured him. "Remember that these builders have had
nothing to work with, no direction, no system or leadership. What would
business men accomplish in such an undertaking under the circumstances?
If they had experienced leaders--men like you--"

"In other words," he smiled, "laying up riches where moth and rust do
corrupt." He walked to the door and stood, hands in pockets, looking out
over the plains. Then he turned to face me.

"My dear girl, I might not be worth a hoot at the job."

"Oh, you would! You would! And if the settlers never repaid you, think
what a land king you would become," I laughed.

"No, I don't want the land that way. I want to see the settlers succeed,
try to keep them from being squeezed out."

He mopped his face, picked up the glass of water and after a glance at
it set it down untouched. "Now, I've been thinking of this western
development for some time. It's going to open up new business in almost
every field. Aside from all that, it is worth while. I've kept track of
you and your Brule. If one gets his money back here it is all he can
expect. How much would be needed to help these settlers hold on--a
little grubstake, some future operating money? I like this fallowing
idea."

He talked about second mortgages, collateral on personal property,
appointment of local agents, etc. He did not want the source of this
borrowing power to become known as yet.

It was he who brought me back to my personal predicament when, ready to
leave, he expressed his desire to help me, asking if I would accept a
check--"For you and your sister to carry on." But I refused. I had
appealed to him for the country, not for myself. But his offer mortified
me, made me conscious of my shabby appearance, the coarse, ill-fitting
clothes, the effects of the fire still visible in rough and
smoke-stained skin, the splotches of new skin on my lips, the face pink
and tender. Altogether, the surroundings and I must have made a drab
spectacle.

Holding out his hand to say good-by, Halbert Donovan saw my shrinking
embarrassment. Suddenly he put his arm around my shoulders, drew me to
him, brushed back the singed hair and pressed his lips to my forehead;
turned my small, blackened hand, palm upward, looking at it.

"I'll help you all I can," he said. "Just keep your Utopian dreams."

*