," he continued, bowing toward Ranald; "and by the great
Sam, you suit me well! If you ever feel like a change of air, indicate
the same to Colonel Thorp."

"Ah, Colonel," said Mr. St. Clair, who had recovered his easy, pleasant
manner, "we can sell limits but not men."

"No, by the great Sammy," replied the colonel, using the more emphatic
form of his oath, "ner buy 'em! Wall," he added, "when you have the
papers ready, let me know. Good day!"

"Very good, Colonel, good by, good by!"

The colonel did not notice Mr. St. Clair's offered hand, but nodding to
Ranald, sauntered out of the office, leaving the two men alone. For a
few moments Mr. St. Clair turned over his papers in silence. His face
was flushed and smiling.

"Well, that is a most happy deliverance, Ranald," he said, rubbing his
hands. "But what is the matter? You are not well."

White to the lips, Ranald stood looking at his chief with a resolved
face.

"Mr. St. Clair, I wish to offer you my resignation as manager."

"Nonsense, Ranald, we will say no more about that. I was a little hasty.
I hope the change I spoke of will go into immediate effect."

"I must beg to decline." The words came slowly, sternly from Ranald's
white lips.

"And why, pray?"

"I have little doubt you can discover the reason, Mr. St. Clair. A few
moments ago, for honorable dealing, you would have dismissed me. It is
impossible that I should remain in your employ."

"Mr. Macdonald, are you serious in this? Do you know what you are doing?
Do you know what you are saying?" Mr. St. Clair rose and faced his
manager.

"Only too well," said Ranald, with lips that began to quiver, "and all
the more because of what I must say further. Mr. St. Clair, I love your
daughter. I have loved her for seven years. It is my one desire in life
to gain her for my wife."

Mr. St. Clair gazed at him in utter astonishment.

"And in the same breath," he said at length, "you insult me and ask my
permission."

"It is vain to ask your permission, I fear, but it is right that you
should know my desire and my purpose."

"Your purpose?"

"My unalterable purpose."

"You take my daughter out of my house in--in spite of my teeth?" Mr. St.
Clair could hardly find words.

"She will come with me," said Ranald, a little proudly.

"And may I ask how you know? Have you spoken to my daughter?"

"I have not spoken to her openly." The blood rose in his dark face. "But
I believe she loves me."

"Well