The Iron Trail

by Rex Beach

  XXI

  DAN APPLETON SLIPS THE LEASH

  The first winter snows found O'Neil's track laid to the bridge site andthe structure itself well begun. He had moved his office out to thefront, and now saw little of Eliza, who was busied in writing her book.She had finished her magazine articles, and they had been accepted, butshe had given him no hint as to their character.

  One afternoon "Happy Tom" burst in upon his chief, having hastened outfrom Omar on a construction-train. Drawing a Seattle paper from hispocket, he began excitedly:

  "Well, the fat's in the fire, Murray! Somebody has belched up the wholeNorth Pass story."

  O'Neil seized the newspaper and scanned it hurriedly. He looked up,scowling.

  "Who gave this out?" he inquired, in a harsh voice.

  Slater shrugged. "It's in the Cortez Courier too, so I s'pose it camefrom Gordon. Blessings come from one source, and Gordon's the fountainof all evil. I'm getting so I blame him for everything unpleasant.Sometimes I think he gave me the smallpox."

  "Where did he learn the inside of Illis's deal? By God! There's a leaksomewhere!"

  "Maybe he uncovered it back there in the States."

  Murray shook his head. "Nobody knows anything about it except youboys." He seized the telephone at his elbow and called Dr. Gray, whileTom listened with his shining forehead puckered anxiously. O'Neil hungup with a black face.

  "Appleton!" he said.

  Tom looked, if possible, a shade gloomier than usual. "I wouldn't betoo sure it was Dan if I was you," he ventured, doubtfully.

  "Where is he?" O'Neil ground out the words between his teeth.

  "Surveying the town-site addition. If he let anything slip it was bymistake--"

  "Mistake! I won't employ people who make mistakes of that kind. Thisstory may bring the Canadian Government down on Illis and forfeit hisNorth Pass charter--to say nothing of our authorities. That wouldfinish us." He rose, went to the door, and ordered the recently arrivedengine uncoupled. Flinging himself into his fur coat, he growled: "I'drather have a crook under me than a fool. Appleton told us he talkedtoo much."

  Tom pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Gordon got it through the Gerardgirl, I s'pose."

  "Gordon! Gordon! Will there never be an end to Gordon?" His frowndeepened. "He's in the way, Tom. If he balks this deal I'm afraidI'll--have to change ghosts."

  "It would be a pious act," Slater declared. "And his ghost wouldn'tha'nt you none, either. It would put on its asbestos overshoes and goout among the other shades selling stock in electric fans or 'Gordon'sArctic Toboggan Slide.' He'd promote a Purgatory Development Companyand underwrite the Bottomless Pit for its sulphur. I--I'd hate to thinkthis came from Dan."

  The locomotive had been switched out by this time, and O'Neil hurriedto board it. On his way to Omar he had time thoroughly to weigh theresults of this unexpected complication. His present desire was merelyto verify his suspicion that Appleton had told his secret to Natalie;beyond that he did not care to think, for there was but one course open.

  His anger reached the blazing-point after his arrival. As he steppeddown from the engine-cab Gray silently handed him a code message fromLondon which had arrived a few moments before. When its contents hadbeen deciphered, O'Neil cursed and he was furious as he stumbledthrough the dark toward the green bungalow on the hill.

  Swinging round the corner of the house, he came into a bright radiancewhich streamed forth from Eliza's window, and he could not help seeingthe interior of the room. She was there, writing busily, and he sawthat she was clad in the elaborate kimono which he had given her; yetit was not her personal appearance which arrested his angry eyes andcaused his step to halt; it was, instead, her surroundings.

  He had grown to accept her prim simplicity as a matter of course, andnever associated her in his thoughts with anything feminine, but theroom as it lay before him now was a revelation of daintiness and artfuldecoration. Tasteful water-colors hung on the walls, a warm rug was onthe floor, and everywhere were rosy touches of color. The plain whitebed had been transformed into a couch of Oriental luxury; a lace spreadof weblike texture covered it, the pillows were hidden beneathbillowing masses of ruffles and ribbons. He saw a typical woman's cozycorner piled high with cushions; there was a jar of burning incensesticks near it--everything, in fact, was utterly at variance with hisnotions of the owner. Even the girl herself seemed transfigured for herhair was brought forward around her face in some loose mysteriousfashion which gave her a bewilderingly girlish appearance. As he lookedin upon her she raised her face so that the light shone full upon it;her brows were puckered, she nibbled at the end of her pencil, in themidst of some creative puzzle.

  O'Neil's eyes photographed all this in a single surprised glance as hepassed; the next moment he was mounting the steps to the porch.

  Dan flung open the door, but his words of greeting froze, his smile ofwelcome vanished at sight of his chief's forbidding visage.

  Murray was in no mood to waste words; he began roughly:

  "Did you tell Miss Gerard that Poultney Illis is backing me?"

  Dan stammered. "I--perhaps--I--What has gone wrong, Chief?"

  "Did you tell her the inside--the story of his agreement with thesteamboat people?"

  Dan paled beneath his tan, but his eyes met Murray's without flinching."I think I did--tell her something. I don't quite remember. Butanything I may have said was in confi--"

  "I thought so. I merely wished to make certain. Well, the whole thingis in the papers."

  Appleton laid his hand upon the table to steady himself.

  "Then it--didn't come from her. She wouldn't--"

  "Gordon has spread the story broadcast. It couldn't have come from anyother source; it couldn't have reached him in any other way, for noneof my boys has breathed a word." His voice rose despite his effort atself-control. "Illis's agreement was ILLEGAL," he said, savagely; "itwill probably forfeit the charter of the North Pass or land him incourt. I suppose you realize that! I discovered his secret and assuredhim it was safe with me; now you peddle it to Gordon, and the wholething is public. Here's the first result." He shook the Londoncablegram in Dan's face, and his own was distorted with rage. There wasa stir in Eliza's room which neither noticed. Appleton wiped his facewith uncertain hand; he moistened his lips to say:

  "I--I'm terribly sorry! But I'm sure Natalie wouldn't spy--I don'tremember what I told her, or how I came to know about the affair. DocGray told me, I think, in the first excitement, but--God! She--wouldn'tknowingly--"

  "Gordon fired you for talking too much. I thought you had learned yourlesson, but it seems you hadn't. Don't blame Miss Gerard for pumpingyou--her loyalty belongs to Gordon now. But I require loyalty, too.Since you lack it you can go."

  O'Neil turned as Eliza's door opened; she stood before him, pale,frightened, trembling.

  "I couldn't help hearing," she said. "You discharge us?"

  He nodded. "I'm sorry! I've trusted my 'boys' so implicitly that thethought of betrayal by them never occurred to me. I can't have menclose to me who make such mistakes as this."

  "Perhaps there was--an excuse, or the shadow of one, at least. When aman is in love, you know--"

  Murray wheeled upon Dan and demanded sharply:

  "What's this?" Then in a noticeably altered tone he asked, "Do youlove--Natalie?"

  "Yes."

  "Does she love you?"

  "No, sir!"

  O'Neil turned back to the girl, saying: "I told Dan, when I hired him,that he would be called upon to dare much, to suffer much, and that myinterests must be his. He has disregarded them, and he must go. That'sall. There's little difference between treachery and carelessness."

  "It's--too bad," said the girl, faintly. Dan stood stiff and silent,wholly dazed by the sudden collapse of his fortunes.

  "I'm not ungrateful for what you've done, Appleton," O'Neil went on. "Iintend to pay you well for the help you gave me. You took a chance atthe Canon and at Gordon's Crossing. You'll get a check."
<
br />   "I don't want your damned money," the other gulped. "I've drawn mywages."

  "Nevertheless, I shall pay you well. It's highly probable that you'vewrecked the S. R. & N. and ruined me, but I don't intend to forget myobligations to you. It's unfortunate. Call on the cashier in themorning. Good night."

  He left them standing there unhappily, dumb and stiff with shame. Onceoutside the house, he plunged down the hill as if fleeing from thescene of some crime. He rushed through the night blindly, for he hadloved his assistant engineer, and the memory of that chalk-faced,startled girl hurt him abominably.

  When he came to the company office he was walking slowly, heavily. Hefound Gray inside and dropped into a chair: his face was grimly set,and he listened dully to the physician's rambling talk.

  "I fired Appleton!" he broke out, at last. Gray looked up quickly. "Heacknowledged that he--did it. I had no choice. It came hard, though.He's a good boy."

  "He did some great work, Chief!"

  "I know! That affair at the Crossing--I intend to pay him well, ifhe'll accept. It's not that--I like those kids, Stanley. Eliza took itharder than he. It wasn't easy for me, either," he sighed, wearily."I'd give ten thousand dollars if it hadn't happened. She looked as ifI'd struck her."

  "What did they say?"

  "Nothing. He has been careless, disloyal--"

  "You told them so?"

  O'Neil nodded.

  "And they said nothing?"

  "Nothing! What could they say?"

  Gray answered gruffly: "They might have said a good deal. They mighthave told you how they paid off your men and saved a walk-out when Ihad no money."

  O'Neil stared incredulously. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.

  When he had the facts he rose with an exclamation of dismay.

  "God! Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't they speak out? I--I--why,that's loyalty of the finest kind. All the money they had saved,too--when they thought I had failed! Jove! That was fine. Oh, I'msorry! I wonder what they think of me? I can't let Dan go after that.I--" He seized his cap and hurried out of the building.

  "It's hardly right--when things were going so well, too!" said Dan. Hewas sitting crumpled up in a chair, Eliza's arm encircling hisshoulders. "I didn't mean to give up any secrets, but--I'm not myselfwhen I'm with Natalie."

  "We must take our medicine," his sister told him, gravely. "We deserveit, for this story may spoil all he's done. I didn't think it of her,though."

  Dan groaned and bowed his head in his hands. "I don't know which hurtsworse," he said--"his anger or her action. She--couldn't do such athing, Sis; she just couldn't!"

  "She probably didn't realize--she hasn't much sense, you know. Butafter all he's suffered, to think that we should injure him! I couldcry. I think I shall."

  The door opened before a rough hand, and O'Neil strode into the room,huge, shaggy in his coonskin coat. They rose, startled, but he came tothem swiftly, a look of mingled shame and gladness in his face.

  "I've come back to apologize," he cried. "I couldn't wait. I've learnedwhat you children did while I was gone, and I've come to begforgiveness. It's all right--it's all right."

  "I don't know what you mean," Dan gasped.

  "Doc told me how you paid those men. That was real friendship; it wassplendid. It touched me, and I--I want to apologize. You see, I hurriedright back."

  They saw that his eyes were moist, and at the sight Eliza gave aquivering cry, then turned swiftly to hide her face. She felt O'Neil'sfur-clad arm about her shoulder; his hand was patting her, and he wassaying gently: "You are a dear child. It was tremendously good of youboth, and I--ought to be shot for acting as I did. I wonder if you canaccept a wretched apology as bravely as you accepted a wrongaccusation."

  "It wasn't wrong; it was right," she sobbed. "Dan told her, and shetold Gordon."

  "There, there! I was to blame, after all, for letting any one know, andif Dan made a mistake he has more than offset it by hisunselfishness--his sacrifices. It seems I forgot how much I really owehim."

  "That affair with the shift bosses wasn't anything," said Dan, hastily,"and it was all Eliza's idea. I refused at first, but when she startedto pay them herself I weakened." He stuttered awkwardly, for his sisterwas motioning him desperately to be silent; but he ran on: "Oh, heought to know the whole truth and how rotten I acted, Sis. I deserve tobe discharged."

  "Please don't make this any harder for me than it is," Murray smiled."I'm terribly embarrassed, for I'm not used to apologies. I can'tafford to be unjust; I--have so few friends that I want to cherishthem. I'm sorry you saw me in such a temper. Anger is a treacherousthing, and it always betrays me. Let's forget that I was here beforeand pretend that I just came to thank you for what you did." He drewDan into the shelter of his other arm and pressed the two young peopleto him. "I didn't realize how deeply you kids care for each other andfor me."

  "Then I'm not fired?" Dan queried, doubtfully.

  "Of course not. When I take time to think about discharging a man Iinvariably end by raising his salary."

  "Dan isn't worth half what you're paying him," came Eliza's muffledvoice. She freed herself from Murray's embrace and rearranged her hairwith tremulous fingers. Surreptitiously she wiped her eyes. "You gaveus an awful fright; it's terrible to be evicted in winter-time." Shetried to laugh, but the attempt failed miserably.

  "Just the same, when a man contemplates marriage he must have money."

  "I don't want your blamed money," Dan blurted, "and it doesn't costanything to contemplate marriage. That's all I'm doing--just looking atit from a distance."

  "Perhaps I can help you to prevail on Miss Natalie to change her mind.That would be a real service, wouldn't it?" Under his grave glanceDan's heart leaped. "I can't believe she's indifferent to you, my boy.You're suited to each other, and there's no reason on earth why youshouldn't marry. Perhaps she doesn't know her own mind."

  "You're mighty good, but--" The lover shook his head.

  Murray smiled again. "I think you're too timid. Don't plead andbeg--just carry her off. Be firm and masterful. Be rough--"

  "The idea!" exclaimed Eliza. "She's no cave-woman!"

  "Exactly. If she were, Dan would need to court her and send herbouquets of wild violets. She's over-civilized, and therefore he needsto be primitive."

  Dan blushed and faltered. "I can't be firm with her, Murray; I turn tojelly whenever she looks at me." There was something so friendly andkind in his employer's attitude that the young fellow was tempted topour out all his vexations; he had never felt so close to O'Neil asnow; but his masculine reserve could not be overcome all in a moment,and he held his tongue.

  When Murray had put the two young people fully at their ease he rose togo, but Eliza's eager voice made him turn with his hand on thedoor-knob.

  "What can we do about this unfortunate Illis affair?" she asked. "Danmust try to--"

  "Leave that to me. I'll straighten it out somehow. It is all my fault,and I'll have to meet it." He pressed their hands warmly.

  When he had gone Dan heaved a great sigh of relief.

  "I'm glad it happened just as it did, Sis," he announced. "He knows mysecret now, and I can see that he never cared for Natalie. It's a loadoff my mind to know the track is clear."

  "What a simpleton you are!" she told him. "Don't you see he's merelypaying his debt?"

  "I wonder--" Dan eyed her in amazement.

  "Gee! If that's so he is a prince, isn't he?"

  The same ship which had brought the ominous news to O'Neil also broughtCurtis Gordon north. He had remained in Seattle only long enough to seethe Illis story in print, and then had hastened back to the front. Buthis satisfaction over the mischief he had done received a rude joltwhen at his first moment of leisure he looked over the late magazineswhich he had bought before taking leave. In one which had appeared onthe news-stands that very day he found, to his amazement, an article byMiss Eliza Appleton, in which his own picture appeared. He pounced uponit eagerly; and then, as he rea
d, his eyes narrowed and his jawstiffened. There, spread out to the public gaze, was his own record infull, including his initial venture into the Kyak coal-fields, hisabandonment of that project in favor of Hope Consolidated, and anaccount of his connection with the latter enterprise. Eliza had nothesitated to call the mine worthless, and she showed how he, knowingits worthlessness from the first, had used it as a lure to investors.Then followed the story of his efforts to gain a foothold in therailroad struggle, his defeat at the Salmon River Canon, his rout atthe delta crossing, and his final death-blow at Kyak. His career stoodout boldly in all its fraudulent colors; failure was written acrossevery one of his undertakings. The naked facts showed him visionary,incompetent, unscrupulous.

  Thus far he had succeeded in keeping a large part of his stock-holdersin ignorance of the true condition of Hope Consolidated, but he quailedat the inevitable result of this article, which had been flung far andwide into every city and village in the land. He dared not think of itseffect upon his present enterprise, now so auspiciously launched. Hehad made a ringing appeal to the public, and its support would hingeupon its confidence in him as a man of affairs. Once that trust wasdestroyed the Cortez Home Railway would crumble as swiftly as had allhis other schemes.

  The worst of it was that he knew himself shut off from the world forfive days as effectually as if he were locked in a dungeon. There wasno wireless equipment on the ship, he could not start the machinery ofhis press bureau, and with every hour this damnable story was bound togain momentum. He cursed the luck which had set him on this quest forvengeance and bound his hands.

  Once he had gathered his wits, he occupied himself in the only possibleway--by preparing a story of his own for the wire. But for the firsttime in his experience he found himself upon the defensive and opposinga force against which no bland persuasiveness, no personal magnetismcould prevail. In the scattered nature of his support lay his greatestweakness, for it made the task of self-justification extremelydifficult. Perhaps it was well for his peace of mind that he could notmeasure the full effect of those forces which Eliza Appleton's pen hadset in motion.

  In Omar, of course, the article excited lively interest. O'Neil felt awarm thrill of satisfaction as he read it on the morning after hisscene with Eliza and Dan. But it deepened his feeling of obligationalmost painfully; for, like all who are thoughtlessly prodigal of theirown favors, he was deeply sensible of any kindness done himself.Eliza's dignified exposition of Alaskan affairs, and particularly theagreeable things she had written about him, were sure to be of greatpractical assistance, he knew, and he longed to make some real return.But so far as she was concerned there seemed to be nothing that hecould do. With Dan, of course, it was quite different. Mere money oradvancement, he admitted seemed paltry, but there was a possibility ofanother kind of service.

  Meanwhile Dan was struggling with his problem in his own way. Thepossibility that Natalie had voluntarily betrayed him was a rackingtorture, and the remembrance of Eliza's words added to his suffering.He tried to gain some hint of his chief's feeling, but Murray's frankand friendly attitude baffled him.

  When at last he received a brief note from Natalie asking him to call,he raced to Hope afraid, yet eager to hear what she might say. She methim on the dock as he left the S. R. & N. motorboat and led himdirectly to the house.

  Natalie went straight to the point. "I'm in dreadful trouble," shesaid, "and I sent for you to tell you that I had no idea of betrayingconfidences."

  Dan uttered some inane platitude, but his eyes lighted with relief.

  "When I saw in the papers what a stir that North Pass & Yukon story hadmade I was afraid I had done something dreadful. Tell me, is it so? DidI make trouble?"

  "You certainly did. O'Neil was furious, and nobody knows yet what theresult will be. It--it nearly cost me my head."

  "Does he blame me?"

  "N-no! He says you're on Gordon's side now. He blames me, or did, untilhe generously took it on himself."

  "What does it all mean? I'm nearly distracted." Natalie's eyes werepleading. "Did you think I spied on you?"

  Dan glowed with embarrassment and something more. "I didn't know whatto think," he said. "I was wretchedly miserable, for I was afraid. Andyet I knew you couldn't do such a thing. I told O'Neil I wasn'tresponsible for what I did or said when with you."

  "Mr. Gordon sent me to Omar purposely. He sent me twice. It was I whobrought him word that the road was saved. I told all I'd learnedbecause I believed he no longer hated Mr. O'Neil. I was happy to tellall I knew, for he deceived me as he deceives every one. I learned thetruth too late."

  "Why do you stay here?" Dan demanded, hotly.

  "Why? I--don't know. Perhaps because I'm afraid to leave. I'malone--you see mother believes in him: she's completely under his sway,and I can't tell her the sort of man he is. She's happy, and herhappiness is worth more to me than my own. But--I SHALL go away. Ican't stand it here much longer."

  "Where will you go?"

  "Back to my old home, perhaps. Somewhere--anywhere away from Alaska."

  "I suppose you know I can't get along without you."

  "Please don't! You have been very good and sweet to me, but--" Sheshook her dark head. "You couldn't marry me--even if I cared for you inthat way."

  "Why? I intend to marry you whether you want to or not."

  "Oh, Dan, it wouldn't do. You know--about--mother. I've nearly died ofshame, and--it would be sure to come up. Somebody would speak of it,sometime."

  Dan's blue eyes went cold and smoky as he said:

  "It would take a pretty brave person to mention the subject in mypresence. I don't care a whoop for anything Gordon or your family maysay or do. I--"

  There was a stir in the hall outside, and the speaker turned to beholdCurtis Gordon himself in the doorway. The latter in passing had beendrawn by the sound of voices and had looked into the library.Recognizing Natalie's caller, he frowned.

  "What is this?" he inquired, coldly. "A proposal? Do I interrupt?"

  "You do," said Dan; then, after a pause, "I'll finish it when youleave."

  Gordon entered, and spoke to his stepdaughter.

  "What is this man doing in my house?"

  "He is here at my invitation," she replied.

  "Tell him to leave. I won't have him here."

  "Why don't YOU tell me?" cried Dan. "I don't need an interpreter."

  "Young man, don't be rash. There is a limit to my patience. If you havethe indecency to come here after what you have done, and after whatyour sister has said about me, I shall certainly--"

  Dan broke in roughly: "I didn't come to see you, Gordon. You may be anagreeable sight to some people, but you're no golden sunset in my eyes.Eliza flattered you."

  Natalie gave a little terrified cry, for the men were glaring at eachother savagely. Neither seemed to hear her.

  "Did you read that article?"

  "Read it? I wrote it!"

  Gordon's face flamed suddenly with rage; he pointed to the door withtrembling fingers, and shouted:

  "Get out! I'll not have you here. I discharged you once. Get out!" Hisutterance was rapid and thick.

  Dan smiled mirthlessly, dangerously. In a soft voice he said:

  "I haven't finished proposing. I expect to be accepted. You'll pardonme, I know."

  "Will you go, you--"

  Dan turned to the girl, who, after that first outcry, had stood as ifspellbound, her face pale, her eyes shining.

  "Natalie dear," he said, earnestly, "you can't live in the same housewith this beast. He's a cheat and a scoundrel. He's done his best tospoil your life, and he'll succeed if you stay, so come with me now.Eliza loves you and wants you, and I'll never cease loving you with allmy heart. Marry me, and we'll go--"

  Gordon uttered an inarticulate sound and came forward with his handsworking hungrily.

  "Don't interrupt!" warned Dan, over his shoulder, and his white teethgleamed in sudden contrast with his tan. "No man could love you as Ido, dear--" Gordon's clutc
h fell upon him and tightened. Dan stiffened,and his words ceased. Then the touch upon his flesh became unbearable.Whirling, he wrenched himself free. He was like a wild animal now; bodyand spirit had leaped into rebellion at contact with Gordon. His longresentment burst its bounds; his lean muscles quivered. His frametrembled as if it restrained some tremendous pressure from within.

  "Don't do that!" he cried, hoarsely, and brushed the sleeve where hisenemy's fingers had rested, as if it had been soiled.

  Gordon snarled, and stretched out his hand a second time; but theyounger man raised his fist and struck. Once, twice, again and again heflung his bony knuckles into that purple, distorted face, which heloathed as a thing unclean. He battered down the big man's guard: rightand left he rained blows, stepping forward as his victim fell back.Gordon reeled, he pawed wildly, he swung his arms, but they encounterednothing. Yet he was a heavy man, and, although half stunned by thesudden onslaught, he managed to retain his feet until he brought upagainst the heavy mahogany reading-table in the center of the room. Hisretreat ended there; another blow and his knees buckled, his armssagged. Then Dan summoned all his strength and swung. Gordon groaned,lurched forward, and sprawled upon the warm red velvet carpet, facedown, with his limbs twisted under him.

  His vanquisher stood over him for an instant, then turned upon Nataliea face that was now keen and cruel and predatory.

  "Come! We'll be married to-day," he said; and, crossing swiftly, hetook her two hands in his. His voice was harsh and imperative. "He'sdown and out, so don't be frightened. Now hurry! I've had enough ofthis damned nonsense."

  "I--I'm not frightened," she said, dazedly. "But--I--" Her eyes rovedpast him as if in quest of something.

  "Here! This'll do for a wrap." Dan whipped his fur overcoat from achair and flung it about her. "My hat, too!" He crushed his grayStetson over her dark hair and, slipping his arm about her shoulders,urged her toward the hall.

  "Mother! She'll never--"

  "We'll call on her together. I'll do the talking for both of us." Hejerked the front door open with a force that threatened to wrench itfrom its hinges and thrust his companion out into the bracing cold.Then, as Gordon's Japanese butler came running from the rear of thehouse, he turned.

  "Hey, you!" he cried, sharply. "The boss has gone on a little visit.Don't stumble over him. And tell Mrs. Gordon that Mr. and Mrs. Appletonwill call on her in a few days--Mr. and Mrs. Dan Appleton, of Omar!"

  It was but a few steps to the pier; Dan felt that he was treading onair, for the fierce, unreasoning joy of possession was surging throughhis veins. His old indecision and doubt was gone, and the men he metrecoiled before his hostile glance, staring after him in bewilderment.

  But as he lifted Natalie down into the launch he felt her shakingviolently, and of a sudden his selfish exultation gave way to a tendersolicitude.

  "There, there!" he said, gently. "Don't cry, honey. It's all right.It's all right!"

  She raised her face to his, and his head swam, for he saw that she wasradiant.

  "I'm not crying; I'm laughing. I--I'm mad--insane with happiness."

  He crushed her to him, he buried his face in her neck, mumbling hername over and over: and neither of them knew that he was rapturouslykissing the coonskin collar of his own greatcoat. The launchman, motorcrank in hand, paused, staring; he was still open-mouthed when Dan,catching sight of him, shouted:

  "What's the matter, idiot? Is your back broken?"

  "Yes--No, sir!" The fellow spun the fly-wheel vigorously; the littlecraft began to vibrate and quiver and then swung out from shore.

  A moment later and the engineman yelled. He came stumbling forward andseized the steering-wheel as the boat grazed a buoy.

  "That's right, you steer," Dan laughed, relaxing his hold. To Nataliehe said, "There's a sky-pilot in Omar," and pressed her to him.

  "It's a long way to Omar," she answered, then hid her face against hisbreast and said, meekly, "There's one in Cortez, too, and he's muchnearer."