“That is exactly what they were. They said after Stiffbold got out West he would try to beat you down in your price, although at the terms agreed upon he knew he was getting a bargain.” “Oh-ho!” murmured Garry Knapp. “That’s the way of it, eh? They had me scared all right. I gave them an option for thirty days for a hundred dollars and they let the option run out. I was about to accept a lower price when your father’s lawyers came around.” “You see, Tavia and I were both interested,” Dorothy explained. “And Tavia wrote to a friend of ours, Lance Petterby——” [Illustration: IT SEEMED TO DOROTHY THAT THEY FAIRLY FLEW OVER THE OPEN WATER. _Dorothy Dale’s Engagement_ _Page 198_ ] “Ah! that’s why old Lance came riding over to Bob Douglass’ place, was it?” murmured Garry. “Then,” said Dorothy, bravely, “I mentioned the matter to father, and he is always willing to buy property adjoining the Hardin place. Thinks it is a good investment. He and Aunt Winnie, too, have a high opinion of that section of the country. They believe it is _the_ coming wheat-growing land of the States.” Garry’s mind seemed not to be absorbed by this phase of the subject. He said abruptly: “Your folks are mighty rich, Miss Dale, aren’t they?” Dorothy started at this blunt and unusual question, but, after a moment’s hesitation, decided to answer as frankly as the question had been put. “Oh! Aunt Winnie married a wealthy man—yes,” she said. “Professor Winthrop White. But we were very poor, indeed, until a few years ago when a distant relative left the major some property. Then, of course, this Hardin estate is a big thing.” “Yes,” said Garry, shortly. “And you are going to be wealthy in your own right when you are of age. So your little friend told me.” “Yes,” sighed Dorothy. “Tavia _will_ talk. The same relative who left father his first legacy, tied up some thousands for poor little me.” Immediately Garry Knapp talked of other things. The night was fine and the moon, a silver paring, hung low above the hills. The stars were so bright that they were reflected in the black ice under the skaters’ ringing steel. Garry and Dorothy had shot away from the others and were now well down the river toward the milldam. So perfectly had the ice frozen that when they turned the blades of the skates left long, soaplike shavings behind them. With clasped hands, they took the stroke together perfectly. Never had Dorothy skated with a partner that suited her so well. Nor had she ever sped more swiftly over the ice. Suddenly, she felt Garry’s muscles stiffen and saw his head jerk up as he stared ahead. “What is it?” she murmured, her own eyes so misty that she could not see clearly. Then in a moment she uttered a frightened “Oh!” They had crossed the river, and now, on coming back, there unexpectedly appeared a long, open space before them. The water was so still that at a distance the treacherous spot looked just like the surrounding ice.