It was a large room with bare floor, painted walls and a flat sounding-board of a ceiling. Across the end was the platform, and immediately above the platform table hung a large brass lamp which could be lowered by a chain that ran along the ceiling and down the adjoining wall. Around the main walls and between the windows were smaller lamps in wire brackets, which burned with a steady, yellow light, and occasionally gave off a thin trickle of smoke that filled the room with the sharp odor of soot. On the platform sat Clark and Filmer on either side of the table, and on the table stood an enormous jug of water and one glass.

At five minutes past eight the hall was crowded. Manson was there, sitting in the front row, and leaning forward on his heavy oak stick which seemed a very bludgeon of authority. Beside him sat his wife, small, slight and gentle, the very antithesis of her dark and formidable husband. Manson's eyes roved from Filmer to Clark and back again to Filmer, but the two looked over his head and seemed no whit disconcerted. A little further back were the Dibbotts, the former turning his big gray-coated body, and every now and then surveying the growing audience with his small blue eyes, while his lips pushed in and out, which was in Dibbott a certain sign that he was thinking hard. Mrs. Dibbott, tall, slim, and square shouldered, turned her kindly capable face toward Clark, and felt the first intimation of that keen interest he always roused, especially in the women who met him. He seemed so alert, such a free agent and, it must be confessed, so disgracefully independent of the gentler sex. Then there was Belding, the young engineer who had had charge of the town's work at the canal. It was not Belding's fault that the money ran out, but he had ceased operations with an unshakable sense of personal blame that, of late, worked poisonously in his brain. There were also the Bowers, and Mrs. Bowers' ample and genial person was full of a pleasurable glow, for if the mayor's plan went through they would have at last a roof over the front porch on which she spent so many hospitable summer evenings. Bowers himself already saw in Clark a possible and important client, and his brain was full of half formulated propositions.

At seven minutes past eight the mayor began to speak. He had been somewhat at a loss just how he might introduce Clark, for, as a matter of fact, the only information he had about the visitor was what the visitor himself had volunteered. But here, as always, Clark's tremendous personality had expressed itself. Filmer glanced at his alert but motionless figure, and perceived that the other was a man of much greater experience and power than himself, and in this the mayor was subject to exactly that influence which Clark was in the habit of exerting without any effort whatever. So thus reinforced, and mindful as well that the half yearly interest and sinking fund payments would be due on the town debt in three months, he fastened an authoritative eye on Manson, the town pessimist, and commenced.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I have asked you to come here to-night because it seems that there is now an unexpected opportunity to secure great benefit for the town. You are all aware that we tried to do something and failed, and that the result was an increase of one hundred and thirty thousand dollars in the debt of St. Marys." At this point Manson rammed his oak stick against the floor with disturbing effect. The mayor glanced at him with a smile and went on. "I do not wish to put before you the proposal Mr. Clark makes to the town, he will do that himself. I can only say that I have gone into it very carefully with him, and that I am satisfied that it is more than fair to us, and that I believe he is in control of the necessary money to carry out his plans. If he does not carry them out we are no worse off, and if he does it will put St. Marys definitely on the map. He will speak for himself and I hope you will give a careful hearing, for I don't believe such men get off the train every day."

Clark was on his feet at once and began to talk in a curt, incisive tone of great penetration. Behind it there moved a suggestion of something quite new to the folk of St. Marys. The moment offered no opportunity to analyze this, but it held them motionless with attention.

"I have come," he said, "to make you a proposal which has already been put before Mayor Filmer, and which I am glad to tell you meets with his approval. I appreciate the opportunity, and with your coÖperation great things will yet be done in St. Marys. Now I am going to ask that two windows be opened and that you listen with me for a moment."

There followed an instant of universal surprise shared by the mayor, after which Clark gathered Dawson and Belding with his magnetic eye, and the two pushed up the windows nearest them. The cool night air breathed in and set the big oil lamps flickering, but with it there came the dull monotone of the rapids. Clark leaned slightly forward, and, smiling, began to speak again.

"What you hear is a voice in the wilderness, and, ladies and gentlemen, you have heard it for years. I, too, have heard it, but for something less than eight hours, and there is a difference in our hearing and I want to make that difference clear to you. I listen with a stranger's ears, being a stranger, and therefore not accustomed to that voice, I detect in it something which possibly some of you may have recognized, but certainly none of you have fully appreciated."

There followed a little silence during which Mrs. Dibbott, her eyes twinkling with intense pleasure, nodded to Mrs. Worden. Her imagination was already at work, and, of them all, she first caught the subtle trend of Clark's address.

"It is hardly necessary for me to remind you that your town has made a certain brave attempt and failed completely in its venture." ("Hear! Hear!" from Manson.) "This attempt was from the outset bound to fail." At this point Manson stamped approvingly, and Clark's gray eyes rested on his big frame for a moment while the least suggestion of a smile traversed his lips. "The reason is very simple. You lacked experience in such undertakings. You partly heard the voice but only partly, for to answer it fully and successfully you must answer it in millions and not in thousands of dollars."

At this point he paused impressively, while there spread through the audience the dun colored reflection that the entire town, if obliterated, could be rebuilt for much less than a million, and so definite was the reaction that the speaker proceeded to intensify it in his next remarks.

"You have at present, as the result of this ill-fated enterprise, a liability of one hundred and thirty thousand dollars—I think it is." He turned inquiringly to Filmer who nodded, and with him the entire male section of the audience. There was no question about those figures.

"This liability imposes a heavy tax upon an unproductive community, although if you were producers it would be a bagatelle. As against this liability you have, as assets, a certain piece of property and certain water rights secured from the Dominion government, rights which though at present very limited, might be made the basis of further expansion. And that is all you have—a debt, and against it something that is of no use to you."

A chilled surprise trickled through the town hall and Filmer himself, who had been quite unaware how Clark would state his case, began to think that the thing had gone far enough, when the penetrating voice went on.

"Now as to the town itself. I have failed, after a careful survey, to find any evidence of growth. I have seen no new buildings, nor, under the conditions which at present exist and which there is nothing you can do to change, do I see any reason for growth. You do not manufacture or import anything. You have, so to speak, to live on each other, so why should any one come here to settle down?"

Although Clark had said several striking things, there had not been anything which went as straight home as this. All had watched the great procession which passed up and down the river, and wondered why the population of St. Marys remained so stationary, but never had the inescapable truth been thrown so blatantly in their faces as by this magnetic stranger whose clear voice announced those truths which each had been secreting in his heart year after year. They began to wonder why a man of his type should be interested in the town. But the fact that he was interested clothed him with a still more compelling attraction. Visions of a decaying and moss covered settlement were floating through their minds when the voice took on a new note.

"The condition I have touched on is due to lack of three things,—experience, money and imagination, and in such isolated points as this there is little opportunity to acquire any of the three. There is in the rapids unlimited power. It must be developed, and developed on this side of the river. The age of electricity has come. But let us ask ourselves what is the use of power unless there is some practical purpose to which to put it. There is but one answer. Large works—enormous works must be established at the rapids; works that will utilize all the power that is developed, and draw their raw material from the surrounding country. I have an idea that you may consider the district to the north and west a wilderness, but, gentlemen, you are mistaken. I firmly believe it to be a veritable reservoir of wealth."

Here Clark stopped, glanced thoughtfully at Filmer, and poured out a glass of water, while the entire audience took an imaginary journey into the bush to the north in an attempt to discover the reservoir of wealth. This resulted in numerous quiet smiles, each of which died out with a look at the intense earnestness on the speaker's face. There was a certain amount of fur, it was admitted, but the trapping was falling off. There were scattered patches of spruce for pulp wood, but so far as most of them knew the land was poor and rocky and there had been no discovery of valuable mineral. However, silently concluded Clark's hearers, the man might know, and probably did know a good deal more than he said, and just as this opinion was gaining ground, the speaker struck an inspiring note and came to his point.

"Now for my proposal. I believe in the future of this country, in its latent wealth and its possibilities, and I am prepared to take on the town's uncompleted enterprise and assume its one hundred and thirty thousand dollars of liability. Gentlemen, what I have in mind goes further than any of you have ever imagined, and it needs more millions than you have conceived. Millions will be forthcoming. In the financial markets of the world, capital must be assured of certain fundamentals. These fundamentals established, there is no difficulty whatever in securing as much money as may be required. That is my experience, and if you accept my proposition St. Marys will, within a year, begin to feel the influx of money which is seeking investment. Within that year you will hardly be able to recognize your town. Your property, your houses, your farm products will greatly increase in value, and local trade will experience a remarkable impetus. If you ask what are these basic industries which will mean so much, I need only point out that I am assured of an ample supply of pulp wood for very large mills which I propose to erect, and there is, without doubt, iron ore in these hills of yours. This is only a part of my plan."

Again Clark paused, playing with all his power on those who had already grasped something of his vision. Ore had never been found in that part of the country, though innumerable prospectors had toiled through the hills in search of it, but now it seemed that the folk of St. Marys had cast aside their difference and unbelief, and were becoming incorporated in the speaker's high assurance. A little murmur of enthusiasm arose, to be hushed instantly.

"I only want your coÖperation. I do not ask that you put in one dollar. There is ample money for the purpose, and I tell you frankly there is no room for yours. It is not my intention to bring in for the purposes of the work anything the town itself can supply, and the more you can organize to supply amongst yourselves, the better pleased I and my associates will be. All I hope is that you participate intelligently and profitably in that which will shortly take place. And first of all it will be my duty and pleasure to supply the town with water and light on terms to be arranged with your council. This will be the smallest and to me the least profitable of our undertakings, but I regard it as an obligation to the town. Ladies and gentlemen, a new era is dawning for St. Marys. Have I your support?"

Had he their support? There followed a moment of half dazed silence during which Filmer's blood flushed up to his temples, and Clark finished his glass of water and sat down with a swift glance of his gray eyes that seemed to take in the entire assembly. As though galvanized by an electric shock, the folk of St. Marys rose to their feet and began to cheer. The ladies' handkerchiefs were in the air, with a babel of voices both small and deep. Mrs. Dibbott, her eyes dancing, caught those of Mrs. Worden and nodded vigorously, her cheeks flushed, for to men and women alike the invigorating, magnetic appeal had gone home. Then above the clamor Manson's deep bass became gradually audible.

He was leaning forward, gazing straight out at the two on the platform and booming his utter unbelief in all he had heard. Clark, it struck him, did not know what he was talking about, and who was Clark anyway? Had a single man in the room ever heard of Clark before that afternoon? The town had made one blunder, and it would be wise to keep out of another.

Thus far he got when the astonishment of the audience became transformed into indignation and boiled over. Clark had not moved and indeed only smiled in an absolutely friendly way, but now there were shouts that Manson sit down. He was putting the town in an unfortunate and undesirable position. Finally, Belding and Worden dragged him expostulating into his chair, whereupon Dibbott and Bowers very earnestly, and with much applause, expressed what the meeting really felt. After which the resolution was put calling upon the town council to confirm the agreement, and without any delay whatever. And this being carried unanimously with cheering, the meeting broke up and streamed down the wooden stairs with much trampling of feet, while Mrs. Dibbott asked Mrs. Bowers if she had noticed that every one was so interested that the two windows which were opened had not been closed again in spite of the fact that three lamps had been blown out. All this time the visitor sat still, a satisfied light in his eyes, and when Dibbott and the rest asked to be introduced, the mayor exclaimed that the speaker of the evening was so occupied with momentous matters that he was obliged to postpone the pleasure of meeting them for a day or two. This, of course, added to the spell of fascination cast by the remarkable stranger.

A day or two later, he was to disappear as suddenly as he came, but in the meantime he avoided the people of St. Marys and was extremely busy. To his room at the hotel there had mounted a small procession of visitors, mostly lumbermen, who, being for a few moments admitted to the shrine of mystery, reappeared with their eyes more bright and their lips pressed tight. They had been discussing business matters, and this was for the present about all they would say. The town council, without a dissenting note, accepted Clark's proposal, and the latter became a legal debtor for one hundred and thirty thousand dollars and the owner of the abandoned works, and so simply and smoothly was the business carried out that to the council there seemed something magical and portentous in the transaction.

That afternoon Clark sent for Belding, and the young engineer came with an expectant thrill. By this time St. Marys was aware that the visitor went to no one, but every one came to him. It was typical of methods which he adopted from the very first, so that almost immediately his personality, which was entirely new to this remote community, began to suggest every phase of power and authority.

Belding had brought his plans and blue prints with him, and spread them on the small bedroom table. Followed a little silence, broken by a crisp interrogation.

"How much power have you figured on developing?"

"Five hundred horse power."

"Capable of any expansion?" Clark's lips took on a quizzical curve.

"Yes, to one thousand."

To this there was no comment. Belding himself rather liked the sound of a thousand horsepower. It seemed well rounded.

"Your water rights, I mean my water rights," went on Clark thoughtfully, "permit the use of water for such works as I may erect."

"Yes," the engineer hesitated a moment and added, "sir."

Clark smiled almost imperceptibly, that is his face expressed an inward amusement because a number of tiny lines wrinkled into being at the corners of his gray eyes, and his lips pushed out ever so slightly. Presently he forgot all about the plans, and stared out of the window where the first leap of the rapids was just visible.

"And your technical experience, Mr. Belding, tell me about that."

Belding told him, and did his best to dilate on work that now seemed of a minor character. There was that about Clark which curiously minimized the young man's accomplishments.

Clark nodded once or twice. "Do you owe any money?"

"No, sir." Belding's voice roughened a shade.

Came one of the stranger's rare and unmistakable smiles. "Forget all about these plans and start new ones. I have no use for a thousand horsepower, or five thousand, or ten. We will begin with twenty thousand. I say begin with that. Now listen. You are appointed my chief engineer. I said last night I did not wish to import that which the town can furnish, and I mean it. But being my engineer you are mine, and no one else's. The plans you will make are for me, and me alone, as is all information connected with them, and I may tell you that my engineers carry out my plans and not theirs. Your position will be highly confidential, more important than you can at present imagine. You will be the repository of much that many people would like to know, but I will do whatever talking is necessary."

There were a few added instructions after which Belding went downstairs in a somewhat dazed condition. Then, suddenly, he remembered that no mention had been made of salary. Turning back he rapped at Clark's door.

"There is one thing we did not discuss," he said a little awkwardly.

"What's that?"

"What are you willing to give me a month. I'm apparently engaged and
I'd like to know where I stand."

Clark laughed shortly. "My invariable practice is to pay every cent my employees can earn; the more I pay the better I like it. Good evening."

Later that afternoon the engineer walked thoughtfully up to the power canal. It seemed incredible that it should no longer be abandoned. Staring at this uncompleted effort, he felt infused with a hot and overwhelming loyalty. Whatever was good in him he would put into the work. He did not dream of the magnitude of his coming trust, but had a sensation that the curtain was about to rise on a new scene. He was, perhaps, more than the rest impressed with the visitor's force and hypnotic power which seemed prophetic and almost mystical. Then his glance, wandering down stream, caught a trace of smoke where the afternoon steamer was disappearing round a bend.

Clark had gone off by the afternoon boat, explaining to Filmer that he desired to get a glimpse of some other parts of the country. Now he sat immovably in a corner of the deck, wrapped in a thick overcoat and speaking to none. In his hand was a copy of the town agreement. He ran over it musingly till he came to the clause which set forth his new obligations, and at this point his lips tightened a little. Had he at that moment been able to realize every worldly possession he had he might have cleared up twenty-five hundred dollars but certainly not five thousand. A glint came into his eyes as he read. The agreement set forth in Bowers' best phraseology that Robert Fisher Clark of Philadelphia, financier,—and at the sound of the last word Clark smiled a little,—hereby undertook to spend in various works not less than three million dollars in the next five years, failing which his title to the town's former holdings would automatically lapse.

The vessel moved smoothly on. Reviewing the last few days with perfect placidity, he sent his mind back to other notable occasions when success had been snatched from him, it seemed, at the very last moment. The review did not depress him. He was not of that kind, but was filled rather with a new and inflexible determination.

The dream and the vision broadened. As the vessel swung into the long turn that leads round the first big bend, he glanced back and caught the wide white line of foam below the spidery bridge. As he gazed the wooded ground to the north of the rapids seemed to be covered with great stone buildings whose walls lifted like mystic battlements in the green wilderness. He saw railways plunging into the forest and heard the rumble of trains that drew up to his phantom factories. He saw the river and the lakes furrowed with ships that came to St. Marys with foreign cargoes and, charged full with his products, turned their slim bows to distant lands. All this and much more passed in royal procession before his thoughtful eye. Then something seemed to leap through his brain and he stood erect, masterful and undaunted.

"And now," he said to himself with a touch of grim humor, "now perhaps
I'd better find some money."