Blake stood where the lovers had left him. Their sudden and seemingly indifferent leave-taking had added its quota of depression to his already sinking spirit. When he had come ashore and had been intercepted by Mr. Leslie he already had begun to feel the reaction from the strain and excitement of those interminable minutes and hours on the bridge—the frightful responsibility of keeping all those hundreds of men out on the gigantic structure, which at any second might have crashed down with them to certain destruction.

Now even the remembrance that he had saved the bridge could not stimulate him. Mr. Leslie's friendly praise, even his more than cordial hand-grip, seemed meaningless. The world had suddenly turned drab and gray. Her father had stated vaguely that some one was waiting to speak with him in the office. He had hastened in, half hoping to find her—and had found only them.

He had saved the bridge; he had found strength to do the square thing by Mr. Leslie and even Ashton. And now they were all gone, even Jimmy, and he was alone—alone! She had come with the party. He was certain that some one had told him that. Yet she had not spoken to him. She had not even let him see her!

He went heavily across the room to the desk, and dropping into a chair, began methodically to gather up and fold the torn and rumpled blueprints upon the floor. But even an almost automatic habit has its limitations. A drawing slipped, half-folded, from his listless fingers. He groaned and leaned forward upon the desk, with his face buried in his arms.

Genevieve came out from her hiding place very quietly, and stood gazing at Blake. It was the first time that she had ever seen him give way to grief or suffering. Always he had stood before her firm and unyielding, even when most certain of defeat. It had never occurred to her that he could be other than hard and defiant over his own struggles and sorrows.

All the mother-love of her woman's nature welled up from her heart in a wave of tenderness and compassion. She went to him and laid her hand softly on his dishevelled head.

"Tom!" she soothed. "Tom! You poor boy!"

The touch of her hand had stricken his body rigid with suspense. But at the sound of her voice he slowly raised his head and fixed his eyes upon her in an incredulous stare.

"It is I, Tom. Don't you know me?" she half whispered, shrinking back a little way before the wildness of his look.

"You!" he gasped. He rose heavily. "Excuse me. I thought you were with them—on the car."

"Did not papa tell you?"

"He said something. I thought I had mistaken him. But you are here."

"Yes. I—I waited to speak with you—to tell you—"

"You told me that night all that's necessary," he said, averting his head to hide the look of pain that he could not repress.

"I was beside myself!" she replied. "You should have known that, Tom.
How else could I have told you—told you—"

"The truth!" he broke in. "Don't think I blame you, Miss Jenny. Don't blame yourself."

"No, no, you do not understand!" she insisted. "Wait—what did you and papa do?"

"Made it up. So that's one thing less to worry you. He did it handsomely. Cracked me up for saving his bridge."

"Your bridge, too!"

"What! You know that?"

"Yes, and that you're to be partner with Mr. Griffith—finish your bridge, and build that great dam you invented, and—and if you wish, be partner in some of papa's business."

"That's too much. I told him I'd be satisfied with the credit for my bridge truss."

"Only that? Surely you'll not give up the bridge?"

"Well, 't isn't fair to kick a man when he's down. Ashton will have a tough enough time of it, I guess, from what your father said. He's to be allowed to resign, on condition that he acknowledges that he borrowed my bridge truss."

"Borrowed?"

"Yes. It seems that his father is one of your father's particular friends. So that's all settled."

She looked at him with radiant eyes. "Tom! You're even bigger—more generous—than I had thought!"

"Don't!" he muttered, drawing back. "It makes it so much harder. You don't realize!"

"Don't I?" she whispered, the color mounting swiftly in her down-bent face. "That night—that fearful night, I—Tell me—has James explained how we searched for you?—everywhere, all those days! We telegraphed all over the country. James searched the city, and papa had all his private agents—Where did you go?"

"South."

"South? Oh, and all this time—But that's past now—all the dreadful waiting and anxiety! Could you but know our delight when Mr. Griffith telegraphed that you were here!"

"What! Then you came because—"

"Yes, yes, to find you. Don't you see? We should have been here sooner, only the telegram was not delivered until after midnight, and I had to persuade Aunt Amice. She refused, until after I said I'd come anyway. But of course she doesn't know, even now. Oh, Tom! Tom!—to think you're over that dreadful attack and—"

"Attack?" he inquired.

"The one that started that night—through my fault—mine!"

"Your fault?" he repeated. "How on earth do you make that out?"

"I should have seen—understood! James had tried to explain; but I was overwrought. Not until you were going—But that is all past, dear! I've come to tell you that now you must let me help you. It is not right for you to fight alone—to refuse my aid, when I—when I—love you!"

"Jenny! You can't mean it? After that night—after what I did that night!"

"Yes," she whispered. "If you—if you'll forgive me."

"But—the drinking?"

"You can win! You proved it that night, when you crushed the glass. I no longer fear, Tom. All my doubt has gone. Even without my help I know that you—But I want to do my share, dear. If you're—you're willing, we'll be married, and—"

"Jenny!" He stood for a moment, overcome. Then the words burst from his deep chest: "Girl! Girl!—God! to think that I have that to tell you! Yes, it's true—I proved it that night—I won out that night! Do you hear, Jenny? I broke the curse! I proved it when I left you—went out into the night—after drinking all that whiskey—went down into the stockyards, past the worst saloons, all the joints. I went in and stood about, in all the odor—whiskey, beer—one after the other, I went in, and came out again, without having touched a drop. All the time I kept remembering that I had lost you; but—I knew I had found myself."

"Tom!"

"When I had made sure, I went to the freight yards, got into a fruit-car, and went to sleep. When I woke up, I was on the way to New Orleans. Been hoboing ever since."

"Oh!"

"Best thing for me. Put kinks into my body, but took 'em all out of my brain. About the drinking—it wasn't that night alone. I've kept testing myself every chance—even took a taste to make sure. Now I know. It's the simple truth, Jenny. I've won."

"My man!" she cried, and she came to him as he opened his arms.

THE END

*****

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