Smoke rolled about the clearing and dry branches snapped in the flames. A keen wind fanned the blaze and in places the fire leaped up the trees and resinous needles fell in sparkling showers. Okanagan Bob went about with a coal-oil can, and Jimmy drove the red oxen that hauled loads of brush. Jimmy's face was black, his hand was burned, and his shirt was marked by dark-edged holes, but his mood was buoyant. The fire had got firm hold and advanced steadily across the belt of chopped trunks and branches bushmen call the slashing. When it burned out Jimmy thought only half-consumed logs would be left. A good burn ought to save him much labor.

Perhaps his keenness was strange. To clear a ranch is a long and arduous job that he was not forced to undertake; but he was keen. His occupation, so to speak, had got hold of him. Moreover he felt, rather vaguely, it was a test of his endurance and pluck. Since he left the cotton mill he had loafed and squandered; now he had got a man's job, and when the job was carried out he would know himself a man.

By and by he stopped the oxen in front of the house. A few yards off Deering notched the end of a log. He wore long boots, overall trousers and a torn shirt. His face was red, but his big body followed the sweep of the ax with a measured swing and the shining blade went deep into the log. Deering had arrived a few days before to arrange about a hunting excursion.

"You have put up a fresh log since I came along. You chop like a bushman," Jimmy remarked.

"Two logs," said Deering and dropped his ax. "I reckon I am a bushman. Anyhow I was born at a small Ontario ranch, and hired up at another in Michigan."

Jimmy was surprised. Although Deering was not at all like Stannard, his habits were extravagant and nothing indicated that he had engaged in bodily labor. He saw Jimmy's surprise and laughed.

"For a few minutes I'll cool off and take a smoke," he resumed. "Chopping's a healthy occupation, but I soon had enough. I was out for money and wasn't satisfied to earn two-and-a-half a day. Then in Canada, and I reckon in Michigan, you don't get two generations to stay on the land. You clear a ranch, but your son weighs all you're up against and resolves to quit. He reckons keeping store at a settlement is a softer job."

"Did you keep a store?"

"I ran a pool room. After a time, a women's reform guild got busy and the town reeve hinted I'd better get out."

Jimmy laughed. He liked Deering's frankness, but he said, "I suppose Dillon left Stannard at Puget Sound? He talked about going to Colorado."

"When we had stopped a week or two at the Dillon house, Frank reckoned he'd come back with us," Deering replied with some dryness. "Frank has not bought a ranch, but he's steadying up and I imagine Miss Laura has got after him. Anyhow, he's cut out cards and bets with me. Looks as if Miss Laura had some talent for steering young men into the proper track."

The blood came to Jimmy's skin, but Deering's humorous twinkle did not account for all. Jimmy did not like to think about Laura's steering Dillon; he felt Laura was his guide and not the other's.

"If you go back to the hotel in the afternoon, I'll come along," he said. "Perhaps I ought to see Stannard about our hunting trip."

"He stated he wanted to see you," Deering replied with a careless nod and resumed his chopping.

When the fire had burned out they started for the hotel, but they arrived after dinner and Laura was engaged with other guests. In the morning she went off to the lake with Dillon and one or two more whom Jimmy did not know, and since she did not suggest his joining the party, he loafed about the hotel. It looked as if she was satisfied with Dillon's society and did not want his.

Jimmy was hurt, and sitting on the terrace, he smoked and pondered. From the beginning he had felt Laura's charm, although he had not thought himself her lover; for one thing, he knew his drawbacks. Yet Laura liked Dillon, whose drawbacks were as obvious as his. Somehow Jimmy had taken it for granted he had a particular claim to her friendship, but if the friendship must be shared with Frank its charm was gone.

After an hour or two his resolution began to harden. Perhaps his asking Laura to marry him was not as ridiculous as he had thought. At all events, he would take the plunge. She knew he had stopped loafing and started on a fresh line, and his having done so because she urged it was a useful argument. Jimmy admitted he did not see Laura helping at the ranch, but this was not important. So long as she engaged to marry him when he made good, he would be resigned. If she hesitated, he must try to indicate something like that.

In the evening Laura returned from the lake, but for some time after dinner she was engaged with her party and left Jimmy alone. Jimmy did not join the group, for the suspense bothered him and the others' light banter jarred. He thought it strange, but he felt he had nothing to do with the careless people whose society Laura enjoyed. When he had talked to Laura he was going back to the quiet woods.

At length Laura came along the terrace and Jimmy braced himself. She wore a black dinner dress and when a beam from the window touched her Jimmy thought her skin shone like the snow on the rocks. Then she turned her head and looked back. The tranquil movement was strangely graceful, but Jimmy frowned. Dillon had obviously meant to go with Laura, and although she motioned him back Jimmy knew she smiled. He fetched a chair and leaned against the terrace wall.

"Well, Jimmy," she said in a careless voice, "you don't look very bright."

"It's possible. You haven't talked to me for five minutes since I arrived."

"I was on the terrace. Had you wanted to join us, you could have done so."

"If you had wanted me, I expect you'd have indicated it."

"Sometimes you're rather keen," Laura remarked. "Still sometimes you are obstinate. I have known you do things I would sooner you did not."

"I expect I'm dull, for I don't know if you imply that my obstinacy would not have annoyed you. Anyhow, I left the ranch because I wanted to see you. I didn't want to stand about with the others and laugh at their poor jokes. They're a slack and careless lot."

Laura looked up. Jimmy's mouth was firm and she thought him highly strung. He was thin and hard and his pose was good. In fact, she felt he was not altogether the raw lad she had known.

"Not long since, you rather cultivated people like that and tried to use their rules," she said. "I think you made some progress."

"Oh, well, I own I was a fool and I owe you something because you helped me see my folly. To take the proper line at a ball and a dinner party, to shoot straight and play a useful game at cards is perhaps a sound ambition, but I begin to doubt if it's worth the effort it costs. In the woods, one gets another ambition."

Laura smiled. "You're impulsive. When one indicates the way for you to go, you go much faster than one thinks, but we won't philosophize. Did it not cost you something to leave your ranch?"

"I wanted to see you," said Jimmy in a quiet voice. "I'd better state my object, because in a minute or two I expect your friends will come along—"

Laura thought not. The end of the terrace was not lighted. She and Jimmy were in the gloom and the others were not very dull.

"Well?" she said.

"I wanted to ask if you will marry me?"

For a few moments Laura said nothing and Jimmy noted that her pose was very quiet. Then she looked up.

"You are very young, Jimmy."

"I'm not younger than you. Besides, I don't see what my youth has to do with it."

"Your youth is a drawback," said Laura thoughtfully. "You will inherit a large fortune, but I am poor, and if I married you, your trustees would imagine I, and my father, had planned to capture you."

"Now you are ridiculous!" Jimmy declared. "You have talent, beauty, and cultivation: I'm raw and know nothing but the cotton mill. You ought to see, if I can persuade you, the gain is altogether mine."Laura gently shook her head. "I don't see it, Jimmy, and others would not."

"Dick Leyland might grumble," Jimmy admitted with a frown. "For all that, he has nothing to do with my marrying, and Sir Jim is another type. He'd fall in love with you—"

He stopped and Laura pondered. She must make a good marriage and the marriage Jimmy urged was good, but she saw some obstacles. For one thing, she did not love Jimmy. Ambition called, but she calculated. If he would take the line she thought he ought to take, she might agree.

"If you were at the cotton mill and claimed your proper post, all would be easier," she said. "Your uncles could not then dispute your right to marry whom you liked."

Jimmy's laugh was scornful. "My uncles control my fortune for a year or two; that's all. However, if you hesitate, I won't urge you to marry me yet. If you engage to do so when I get my inheritance, I'll be satisfied."

The blood came to Laura's skin. Jimmy's keenness was not remarkable, but she knew his sincerity and she forced a smile.

"You are philosophical."

"Oh, well," said Jimmy with some embarrassment, "I feel I ought not to urge you now. I wanted to know you belonged to me, and then I needn't bother when I'm at the ranch— The trouble is, if I waited, somebody might carry you off. So long as you agree—"Laura's look got rather hard. When she wanted him to go back to England she was not altogether selfish. Although she did not love him, she liked Jimmy, and felt he ought not to stay in Canada with Stannard and Deering.

"Then, you mean to go on at the ranch?" she said.

"Of course. You declare I'm young. I feel I must take a useful job and, so to speak, make good. Besides, I can't go back to Lancashire to be ruled by Uncle Dick. When I take my inheritance, it will be another thing. Then, when you own a ranch, there's something about the woods that calls. You get keen; to plan and work is not a bother."

"But is the reward for your labor worth while?"

"In money, the reward is not worth while; but that's not important. Somehow I know Dick Leyland is not carrying on the house's business as it ought to be carried on. We are getting rich, but we cannot much longer use his old-fashioned parsimonious rules. Jim's at Bombay, and there's no use in my making plans for Dick to oppose. You see, I have nothing to go upon. For five years I was a clerk, like our other clerks; afterwards I was a careless slacker, and Dick would sternly put me down. But I've stated something like this before. You ought to see—"

Laura saw he had some grounds for his resolve to remain. Still she did not see herself helping at the ranch and to wait, for perhaps three or four years, while he carried out his rash experiment was not her plan. She imagined his trustees would not approve his marrying her and they controlled his fortune and were clever business men. Yet had she loved Jimmy, she might have agreed. In the meantime, he studied her with keen suspense, and getting up, she gave him a quiet resolute look.

"You must let me go," she said. "I like you, Jimmy, but I am not the girl for you."

Jimmy tried to brace himself and advanced as if he meant to touch her, but she stopped him.

"I ought not to return to Lancashire yet; but if that's the obstacle, I'll start when you like," he said, in rather a hoarse voice.

Laura was moved. In fact, she was moved to generosity. Now she had conquered, the strange thing was, she knew she must not use her triumph. Although Jimmy was beaten, she admitted his firmness at the beginning was justified, and she thought he would after a time repent.

"I see some other obstacles," she replied. "Since you are satisfied that your proper job is in Canada, you must carry it out. There is no use in talking, Jimmy. I am not at all the girl for you."

Her resolution was obvious, and Jimmy stepped back. Laura gave him a friendly smile and went off. Jimmy frowned, for although he had doubted if he could persuade her, he had got a nasty knock. At the other end of the terrace Stannard joined Laura and indicated Jimmy.

"Well?" he said.

"Jimmy wanted me to marry him. I refused.""Ah," said Stannard. "I suppose you had some grounds for your refusal?"

"I imagine he does not love me," Laura replied in a quiet voice.

Stannard studied her. Her color was rather high, but she was calm. In some respects, she was like her mother and not like him. Stannard was satisfied it was so.

"Yet he asked you to marry him!"

"Perhaps I am attractive; but now I think about it, he did not urge me much. For all that, Jimmy is a good sort."

For a few moments Stannard said nothing. Laura imagined he had meant her to marry Jimmy and her refusal bothered him. Yet his look rather indicated resignation than anger. She really did not know her father, but he was kind.

"Jimmy is a good sort," he remarked. "He has some other advantages."

"His advantages are obvious; he's sincere and frank and generous," Laura agreed with a touch of emotion. "Had he not been like that, I might have risked it."

Stannard shrugged. "Perhaps you're not altogether logical; but it's done with."

"I'm sorry, father," said Laura in a gentle voice and went up the steps.

Stannard stopped and his look was sternly thoughtful. He was an adventurer and his scruples were not numerous, but he had not used his daughter's beauty as he might have used it. Now he knew he ran some risks and, for her sake, he had wanted her to marry Jimmy. Well, she had refused, and Jimmy owed him much, but for some time could not pay. Stannard lighted a cigar and knitted his brows.