t
the camps, Mr. Macdonald, where do you locate them?"

"I have a rough draught here in which the bases for camps are
indicated," said Ranald, ignoring the imploring and angry looks of his
chief.

"Let's have a look at 'em," said the colonel.

"Oh, you haven't shown me this," said Mr. St. Clair, taking the draught
from Ranald.

"No, sir, you have not seen my final report."

"No, not yet, of course. We have hardly had time yet, Colonel, but Mr.
Macdonald will make a copy of this for you and send it in a day or two,"
replied Mr. St. Clair, folding up the sketch, nervously, and placing it
on his desk. The colonel quietly picked up the sketch and opened it out.

"You have got that last report of yours, I suppose," he said, with a
swift glance at Mr. St. Clair. That gentleman's face was pallid and
damp; his whole fortune hung on Ranald's reply. It was to him a moment
of agony.

Ranald glanced at his face, and paused. Then drawing his lips a little
tighter, he said: "Colonel Thorp, my final report has not yet been
handed in. Mr. St. Clair has not seen it. In my judgment--" here Mr. St.
Clair leaned his hand hard upon his desk--"you are getting full value
for your money, but I would suggest that you go yourself or send your
inspector to explore the limits carefully before you complete the deal."

Colonel Thorp, who had been carefully scanning the sketch in his hand,
suddenly turned and looked Ranald steadily in the eye. "These marks on
the west side mean camps?"

"Yes."

"There are very few on the east side?"

"There are very few; the east side is inferior to the west."

"Much?"

"Yes, much inferior."

"But in your opinion the limit is worth the figure?"

"I would undertake to make money out of it; it is good value."

The colonel chewed hard for a minute, then turning to Mr. St. Clair, he
said: "Wall, Mr. St. Clair, I'll give you one hundred thousand for your
limit; but by the great Sam, I'd give twice the sum for your manager, if
he's for sale! He's a man!" The emphasis on the he was ever so slight,
but it was enough. Mr. St. Clair bowed, and sinking down into his chair,
busied himself with his papers.

"Wall," said the colonel, "that's settled; and that reminds me," he
added, pulling out his flask, "good luck to the Bass River Limits!"

He handed the flask to Mr. St. Clair, who eagerly seized it and took a
long drink.

"Goes good sometimes," said the colonel, innocently. "Wall, here's
lookin' at you