Then George said: "You would never have struck the lode without that man." He turned to the others. "Some story of a prospecting trip! What do you think?" "I think Agatha was very lucky," Mrs. Farnam said with meaning. "Perhaps luckier than she deserved." "Thirlwell's all right," George bluntly agreed, and then addressed Agatha: "You have often got after me about being a business man, and I'll own I don't let many chances of making a dollar pass. But this thing goes back of business. Thirlwell's entitled to half of all you get." Agatha was moved. She had found out some time since that she had not always understood George. "I offered him half," she said and paused. "He wouldn't accept." Mrs. Farnam, seeing the girl was embarrassed, got up. "I'm cold. We had better go in." When she had lighted the lamp, Farnam went out and came back with a tray of bottles and glasses. "It's not often we celebrate an event like this," he said as he opened a bottle. "We have no wine, but this is some of our own hard cider that I meant to send to the Fruit-Growers' Exhibition. There's nothing else good enough." He filled the glasses and with a few happy words wished Agatha success. She thanked him and afterwards stood up, very straight but silent, and with her eyes shining softly lifted her glass above her head. The others lifted theirs, in grave quietness, for they knew what she meant. The pioneers touch the ridge-pole of the tent, or the roof-tree of the shack, when they drink to the memory of comrades who have gone out on the last lone trail. But George's look was troubled and his hand shook. "He made good," he said, and added, when they had drunk and Farnam refilled the glasses: "Here's to the man who helped you prove it; the man who did my job!" Mrs. Farnam studied Agatha and noted the softness of her look. Then she took the girl away and some time afterwards, when they were talking in her room, remarked: "There's an obvious end to your romance, my dear. I suppose you're going to marry Thirlwell?" Agatha blushed, but gave her a steady glance. "He has not asked me." Mrs. Farnam pondered this and then made a sign of understanding. "I think I see; the man is white, although perhaps he's foolishly proud. In fact, I imagine he's worth one's taking some trouble about--" She stopped, seeing Agatha's frown, and then resumed with a smile: "No; I'm not going to meddle! It's better to wait. He's a man, after all; you really have some charm, and human nature's strong." CHAPTER XXX A CHANGE OF LUCK