"No. At this end, the tunnel may terminate any place from down here to a thousand feet up, but in any event far below the top. I hope it proves to be well up. The greater the drop to the level of the mesa, the more turbines could be put in to generate electricity." "That sounds so inspiring! But, Dear--" Genevieve looked at her husband with a shade of anxiety--"even if this project is feasible, do you feel you should carry it through?" "You mean on account of Miss Chuckie and her father," he replied. "I have considered their side of the matter, and even at the first I saw how--Listen, Sweetheart. No one knows better than you that I'm an engineer to the very marrow of my bones. My work in life is to construct,--to harness the forces of nature and compel them to serve mankind; and to save waste--waste material, waste energy--and put it to use." "Don't I know, Tom!" "Well, then," he went on, "in the bottom of Deep Canyon is a river--waste waters down there beyond the reach of this rich but waterless land, down in the gloom, doing no good to anything or anybody, frittering away their energy on barren rocks. Why, it's as bad as the way Ashton, with all the good qualities we now see he has in him--the way he dissipated his strength and his brains and his father's money." "Ah, Dear! wasn't it a splendid thing when he was thrown out of his rut of wastefulness?" "Otherwise known as the primrose path, or the great white way," added Blake. "It certainly was a throw out. I'm as pleased as I am astonished that he seems to have landed squarely on his feet." "What a marvelous change it has made in him!" exclaimed Genevieve. "Sometimes I hardly can believe it really is Lafayette. He is so serious and manly." "Good thing he has changed," replied Blake. "If Miss Chuckie hadn't told us he had made a clean breast of that bridge, I should begin to feel worried about--Do you know, Sweetheart, it's the strangest thing in the world the way I feel towards that girl. It's not because she is so lovely. Of course I enjoy her beauty, but that's not it. If Tommy were a girl and grown up--that's how I feel." "She is a very dear, sweet girl." "So are several of your friends--our friends," said Blake. "This is different. The very first day we met her, there was something about her voice and face--seemed as though I already knew her." "She knew you, through what she had read of you. She warned me, in that frank, charming way of hers, that you were a hero to her and I must not mind if she worshiped you openly." Blake laughed pleasedly. "Isn't she the greatest! And the way she chums with me! Wonder if that is what makes Ashton so sore at me? The idiot! Can't he see the difference?" "Lovers always are blind," said Genevieve. "I'm not," he rejoined, his eyes, as he gazed down into hers, as blue and tender as Isobel's. The young wife blushed deliciously and rewarded him with a kiss.