"I don't remember that anybody did tell me that in so many words. Somehow it was my impression. But no matter. Please listen a moment." She smiled on him, checking his attempt at a statement regarding himself; she had conned her little speech and used her best vocabulary to impress this woodsman. "No doubt you have something very important in the way of occupation. A man of your bearing is bound to. You needn't thank me for a compliment--I'm very frank. That's the way to get on and accomplish things quickly. So I'm frank enough to say it's my habit to meet men on the plane of man to man. Please do not regard me as a woman--that sort of stuff is old-fashioned in these days. I vote and pay taxes. Yet if I were merely a woman you gave evidence on the station platform to-day that you know how to protect one from insults. I was attracted by that trait in you--and afterwards minded your own business quite after my heart. I need outdoor life. I'm up here early for the first fishing. I want to tour the woods. I may invest in timberlands. Putting out of your mind all this foolish sex matter--as I have explained my man-to-man theory--will you go with me? I'll have a cook, of course. Pardon my sudden reference to pay--I'll pay you twice what you're getting now--providing you're working for wages." "I am working for wages. And I can't leave the work." "What is it?" "I'm the master of the Flagg drive on these waters." "And you prefer to boss rough men and endure hardship rather than to come with me?" The bitterness of the last interview with Flagg was still with Latisan. "If it was a matter of preference--but that isn't the way of it!" He returned her gaze and flushed. In spite of his resolve to go on with the battle that was ahead, he was tempted, and acknowledged to himself the fact; but Flagg was trying him cruelly. "You have been the drive master here for a long time--that's why you cannot be spared?" She tossed away her cigarette and gave him earnest attention. "I'm just beginning my work with Flagg." "Then of course you're not vital. Let the man who used to be master----" "That was Flagg, himself. He's laid up with paralysis." "Oh!" she drawled, provokingly. "A matter of conscientiousness--loyal devotion--champion of the weak--or a young man's opportunity to be lord of all for the future!" "He's an old devil to work for, and the job promises no future," blurted Latisan, his manner leaving no doubt as to his feelings. "Then come with me," she invited. "If I get to own timberlands, who knows?" He shook his head. "There are reasons why I can't quit--not this season." "I hoped I'd seem to you like a good and sufficient reason," she returned, insinuatingly; in her anxiety to make a quick job of it, in her cynical estimate of men as she had been finding them out in the city, she was venturing to employ her usual methods as a temptress, naturally falling into the habit of past procedure.