Barbara flashed a swift, keen glance at him, though she smiled. "Then beware in what quarrel you draw it--if I did. One would expect such a gift to be used with honor. It could, however, be legitimately employed against timber-righters, claim-jumpers, and all schemers and extortioners of that kind." She stopped a moment, and looked at him, steadily now. "Do you know that I am glad you left the ranch?" "Why?" "What you are doing now is worth while. You would consider that priggishness in England, but it's the truth." "You mean helping your brother-in-law to get ahead of the timber-righters?" "No," said Barbara. "That is not what I mean, though if it is any consolation to you, it meets with my approbation, too." "Then what I was doing before was not worth while?" "That," said Barbara, with a trace of dryness, "is a question you can answer best, though I saw no especial evidence of activity of any kind. The question is--Can you do nothing better still? This province needs big bridges and daringly-built roads." "I'm afraid not," and Brooke smiled a trifle wryly. "It costs a good many dollars to build a big bridge, and it is apparently very difficult for any man to acquire them so long as he works with his own hands." "Still, isn't it worth the effort--not exactly for the dollars?" Brooke looked at her gravely, with a slight hardening of his lips. "I think it would be in my case," he said. "The difficulty is that I should run a heavy risk if the effort was ever made. Now, however, I had, perhaps, better show you how far we have got with the tramway." There was, as it happened, not very much to show, and before half an hour had passed Barbara and Mrs. Devine climbed the steep ascent, while Brooke returned to redeem the hour spent with them by strenuous toil. It was also late that night before he flung aside the sheet of crude drawings and calculations he was making, and leaned back wearily in his chair. His limbs were aching, and so were his eyes, and he sat still awhile with them half-closed in a state of dreamy languor. He had dropped a tin shade over the lamp, and the tent was shadowy outside the narrow strip of radiance. There was no sound from the workmen's bark and canvas shanty, and the pulsating roar of the canyon broke sharply through an impressive stillness, until at last there was a faint rattle of gravel outside that suggested the approach of a cautious foot, and Brooke straightened himself suddenly as a man came into the tent. His face was invisible until he sat down within the range of light, and then Brooke started a little. "Saxton!" he said. Saxton laughed, and flung down his big hat. "Precisely!" he said. "There are camps in the province I wouldn't have cared to come into like this. It wouldn't be healthy for me, but in this case it seemed advisable to get here without anybody seeing me. Left my horse two hours ago at Tomlinson's ranch." "It was something special brought you so far on foot?"