them, you know. And I'll get a line on some of these delinquents
who are crying calamity for the countryside. I'd better, because we'll
need them. They simply haven't become thoroughly interested yet,
that's all. It will take something to jolt them; something to set them
on fire. And then--then just watch my plaid-shirted boys go! They'll
eat up your sledge-swingers!"

Something of that promised fire was reflected now in Hardwick Elliott's
eyes.

"By Gad," he exclaimed, "by Gad, if it wasn't for Ainnesley I'd say the
thing was worth it, win or lose, just for the game itself. You go
ahead and see McLean. I'll be out there later, myself. I promised
Allison that I'd show the works to some of the young folks up there on
the hill. His daughter--but I keep forgetting that you've known her
longer than I have. There's quite a party of them. She announced her
engagement to Mr. Wickersham last night, I believe. Heard that this
morning--was too busy to go up last night myself. Maybe you'll find
time to help me play the host."

Steve turned toward the door.

"So I heard," he replied, without facing around. "I'll try to be on
hand."

He stood for another instant on the threshold.

"I'm going to ask you to see that my horse is fed and watered," he
requested evenly. "And I reckon you'd better eat your own lunch,
yourself."

But the man behind him had already anticipated that suggestion.
Through a generous bite of sandwich he made answer.

"I'll see that he is taken care of," he called cheerfully. "See you
later, Mr. O'Mara---- Pshaw, the coffee's cold!"

CHAPTER XII

THAT WOODS-RAT

Between Dexter Allison's monopoly of his time and the persistence with
which Miriam Burrell clung to Stephen O'Mara, Barbara Allison had
opportunity for little more than a perfunctory word or two of greeting
that afternoon, during the first hour or two that followed a jolting
ride on the flat car which trundled them to the head of operations.
Almost as soon as her feet touched the ground Miriam's eager survey
singled out a tall figure at the edge of the farthest embankment; and
in spite of the fact that he was at the moment in sober conversation
with white-haired, white-bearded McLean, she crossed instantly to take
possession of both Steve's arms and his undivided attention. Barbara,
at Wickersham's side, glancing now and then in their direction, knew
well what subject was engrossing them to the exclusion of all else