"This is a rough country for walking," said Joseph; "how much farther is it to the Fluke wells?" "Just a bit," said one of the workmen. Joseph took a seat on a stone, with the air of one who needed rest. "This well, I suppose," he remarked, "belongs to the Amaranth?" "Who told you so?" asked the lean, dark man. "They said below, at the Chowder, that the Amaranth was up here." "Did Blenkinsop send you this way?" the man asked again. "Nobody sent me," Joseph replied. "I am a stranger, taking a look at the oil country. I have never before been in this part of the State." "May I ask your name?" "Asten," said Joseph, unthinkingly. "Asten! I think I know where that name belongs. Let me see." The man pulled out a large dirty envelope from his breast-pocket, ran over several papers, unfolded one, and presently asked,— "Joseph Asten?" "Yes." (Joseph set his teeth, and silently cursed his want of forethought.) "Proprietor of ten thousand dollars' worth of stock in the Amaranth! Who sent you here?" His tone, though meant to be calm, was fierce and menacing. Joseph rose, scanned the faces of the workmen, who listened with a malicious curiosity, and finally answered, with a candor which seemed to impress, while it evidently disappointed the questioner:— "No one sent me, and no one, beyond my own family, knows that I am here. I am a farmer, not a speculator. I was induced to take the stock from representations which have not been fulfilled, and which, I am now convinced, never will be fulfilled. My habit is, when I cannot get the truth from others, to ascertain it for myself. I presume you are Mr. Kanuck?" The man did not answer immediately, but the quick, intelligent glance of one of the workmen showed Joseph that his surmise was correct. Mr. Kanuck conversed apart with the men, apparently giving private orders, and then, said, with a constrained civility:— "If you are bound for the Fluke, Mr. Asten, I will join you. I am also going in that direction, and we can talk on the way." They toiled up the opposite side of the ravine in silence. When they had reached the top and taken breath, Mr. Kanuck commenced:— "I must infer that you have little faith in anything being realized from the Amaranth. Any man, ignorant of the technicalities of boring, might be discouraged by the external appearance of things; and I shall therefore not endeavor to explain to you my grounds of hope, unless you will agree to join me for a month or two and become practically acquainted with the locality and the modes of labor." "That is unnecessary," Joseph replied. "You being a farmer, of course I could not expect it. On the other hand, I think I can appreciate your,—disappointment, if we must call it so, and I should be willing, under certain conditions, to save you, not from positive loss, because I do not admit the possibility of that, but from what, at present, may seem loss to you. Do I make my meaning clear?"