and it boded evil
to someone. What had he meant when he spoke of his son's probable
absence of a year or more "to study the lumber business"? Gard
approached the young man and found him quite innocent of any such plan.

"Oh, yes," he had answered, "father's keen on my being what he calls
practical, but," and he had smiled frankly at his questioner, "I
wouldn't leave now--not for the proud possession of every tree, flat or
standing, this side of the Pacific."

Dorothy, when questioned, blushed and smiled and evaded, assuring Gard
that of all the men she had met that season he alone came up to her
ideal, and employed every artifice a woman uses between the ages of nine
and ninety, when she does not want to give an answer that answers. The
very character of her replies, however, convinced Gard that there was
more than a passing interest in her preference. There was something
sweetly ingenuous in her evasions, a softness in her violet eyes at the
mention of Teddy's prosaic name that was not to be misunderstood. Gard
sighed. Still the sense of impending danger oppressed him. He found
himself neglectful of his many and vital interests. He took himself
severely in hand, and set himself to unrelenting work, fixing his
attention on the matters in hand as if he would drive a nail through
them. Heavy circles appeared under his eyes, and the lines from nose to
chin sharpened perceptibly. More than ever he looked the eagle, stern
and remote, capable of daring the very sun in high ambitious flight, or
of sudden and death-dealing descent; but deep in his heart fear had
entered.

* * * * *

VI

"Hello! Oh, good morning. Is that you, Teddy? Yes, you did wake me
up--but I'm very glad. Half past ten?--good gracious!--you never
telephone me before that?--Oh, what a whopper! You called me at half
past eight--day before yesterday--Why, of course--I know that--but you
did just the same. Why, yes, I'd love to. What time to-morrow? That will
be jolly; but do have the wind-shield--I hate to be blown out of the
car--no, it _isn't_ becoming--You're a goose!--besides, my hair tickles
my nose. No, I haven't had a word from mother, and I don't understand it
at all. She might have sent me a wireless. Yes, I'm awfully lonely--who
wouldn't miss her?--Well, now, you don't have a chance to miss me
much--Oh, really!--I'm dreadfully sorry for you!--poor old dear! Well, I
can't, positively, to-day--to-morrow, at t