Books and Stationery 
 
 108 St. Charles SI.
 
 THE STAKE
 
 "See ! She is coming nearer."
 
 THE STAKE 
 
 A STORY OF THE NEW ENGLAND 
 COAST 
 
 BY 
 JAY CADY 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 "THE MOVING OF THE WATERS' 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 
 GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 Copyright, 1912, by 
 GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY 
 
 Pitblished March, 1912 
 
 All rights reserved 
 Printed in U. S. A,
 
 THE STAKE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 AMONG the many summer resorts which give to 
 hot and weary humanity the refreshing sight and 
 sound of the Atlantic waters as they break upon the 
 New England coast, none is so little known, none so 
 delightfully secluded, as Atherton's Cove. Here, for 
 many years, a few families have appeared annually 
 about the first of July to enjoy the bathing, the sailing, 
 and the fishing until the first week in September, when 
 they regularly returned to their inland homes. 
 
 The one hotel, a reconstructed farmhouse, boasts 
 of neither palm garden, nor ballroom, nor orchestra. 
 Neither billiard room nor bowling alley distracts the 
 attention of its guests from the one great attraction 
 of the place, the ocean in all its variable moods. 
 From the broad piazza, which extends along the 
 east front of the house, there is an unobstructed view 
 over the waters of the cove, to where Signal Point and 
 Squaw Head face each other across the Narrows, and 
 guard the entrance to this most picturesque but most 
 useless harbor on the coast. Within those granite 
 portals no craft larger than a fishing-smack dare ven- 
 ture, except at high tide, so shallow are the depths of 
 
 2134807
 
 8 THE STAKE 
 
 this miniature haven, but beyond the jagged line which 
 marks the protecting barrier, one may watch the sea 
 in all its majesty, gently undulating to the touch of the 
 mild summer breezes, or tossing angrily under the lash 
 of the gale. 
 
 In the distance lie isolated masses of rock, which 
 seem to have moved out from the shore, like scouts, to 
 receive the first shock of attack from their eternal 
 foe : the Sentinel, the Hound, the Jaw-bone, each has 
 its name, famous in many local traditions. Woe betide 
 the mariner who attempts to sail these seas, unless he 
 know well the many perils of rock and shoal which beset 
 his course at every turn. Indeed, few venture in these 
 waters, save the handful of fishermen, who, for genera- 
 tions, from father to son, have sailed in and out of the 
 cove, and followed these invisible pathways, guided by 
 that same instinct which enables a landsman to walk 
 fearlessly in the dark through the familiar passages 
 of his dwelling-place. 
 
 The outsider who wishes to visit Atherton's Cove, 
 has a choice of two ways of reaching it. He can take 
 the Boston steamer to Harport, twenty-five miles to 
 the south, and thence, when the sea is calm and the 
 weather fair, may go by launch along the coast, and 
 slip into the cove at high tide. Or he may choose the 
 morning train on the shore line, leave the cars at the 
 little station of Oldfield, and take the rickety stage 
 which will carry him ten miles over a rocky road to 
 his destination. 
 
 Dick Weston was one of the lucky ones who obtained 
 vague information of the land route, and by the aid of a
 
 THE STAKE 9 
 
 map and the railroad agent, he found himself deposited, 
 one afternoon in May, on the lonely platform at Old- 
 field, prepared to walk or drive to Atherton's, as fate 
 might determine. The small frame building which 
 served as depot, ticket office, agent's residence, and 
 general depository of all the odds-and-ends which find 
 their last abiding place in a way station, was the only 
 house in sight, and the lanky individual who served in 
 the quadruple capacity of ticket seller, express agent, 
 telegraph operator, and freight handler, was the only 
 human being in evidence. 
 
 As the train left the station, Weston looked dubiously 
 about him and addressed his solitary companion to 
 learn his fate. 
 
 " My friend, how can I get across to Atherton's 
 Cove?" 
 
 " Dunno. Stage don't run reg'lar 'til June," drawled 
 the unsympathetic official. " But they's li'ble t' be 
 some 'un over 'fore night." 
 
 He looked up the track at the rear of the train now 
 going out of sight around the curve, and slowly re- 
 moved his blue coat and regulation cap. 
 
 " Isn't there some kind of conveyance about here that 
 I can hire?" inquired Weston impatiently. 
 
 " Nothin' but a baggage truck an' a han' car," re- 
 plied the agent, carefully disposing of his official re- 
 galia within the sanctuary of his office. From this 
 place of concealment he presently emerged in his shirt- 
 sleeves and a coarse straw hat, and proceeded to carry 
 into the storeroom the few boxes and express pack- 
 ages left by the train.
 
 io THE STAKE 
 
 Weston watched him in silence for a few minutes 
 before venturing his next question. 
 
 " How far is it to Atherton's Cove? " 
 
 " 'Baout ten mile." 
 
 "I suppose I'll have to walk it," muttered Weston 
 dubiously. 
 
 The man paused a moment to stare at him. 
 
 " Guess ye could, but ye'd find it purty durned hard 
 trav'lin'." " 
 
 Then cocking his head on one side, and squinting 
 his eye upwards, he said : 
 
 " Seems zo I heerd a waggin comin' now." 
 
 " That's so," cried Weston, as the unmistakable 
 sound of wheels was heard approaching the station. 
 
 " That's yer man," said the agent, as they went 
 around the corner of the building and saw coming 
 towards them a two-seated wagon and a team driven 
 by a lank-looking individual in a linen duster and the 
 inevitable straw hat. 
 
 " He's fr'm Atherton's, an' he'll take ye over, 
 all right," remarked the agent. 
 
 With a shaky rattle the stage drew up at the rear 
 platform, and the driver, a shrewd-looking old man, 
 with a glance and a nod at Weston, called to his com- 
 panion in a cheery voice : 
 
 " Haow air ye, Ab ? Anythin' to take over this 
 arternoon ? " 
 
 " Here's a man wants to go, an' they's a box fer 
 Simpson, an' th' mail." 
 
 " All right ! Hustle 'em in. Got any baggage, young 
 man?"
 
 THE STAKE 11 
 
 " Nothing but this hand bag," said Weston, climbing 
 into the back seat. 
 
 " Better come up in front, 's long's you're the only 
 passenger. Th' back spring's a leetle weak, an' she 
 bumps kind o' hard sometimes." 
 
 Weston acted upon the suggestion, settled himself 
 upon the front seat, and, taking his pipe and tobacco 
 from his pocket, prepared to fortify himself for a 
 tedious two hours' drive. 
 
 " All in, Ab ? " inquired the driver, in a high nasal 
 voice. 
 
 " Yep." 
 
 " Waal, then, good-by. Git ap thar ! " 
 
 In spite of the jolting and rattling of the wagon, 
 Weston was comforted with the thought that any con- 
 veyance was better than tramping in the heat, so he 
 smoked his pipe in silence, watching with admiration 
 the horses, a fine team of Morgan blacks, as they 
 trotted along at a surprising gait, considering the rough 
 condition of the road. 
 
 " Rather hard traveling for your horses," said he at 
 last, with a good-humored attempt to open conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 " They're used to it. Ain't another team in these 
 parts can stan' it though, an' keep on agoin' as mine 
 can," remarked his companion with an air of pride, 
 as he drew the reins up tighter. " See 'em step now ! 
 Ain't they beauties?" 
 
 " They certainly are. But the balance of the turn- 
 out doesn't match." 
 
 "Meanin' th' waggin?"
 
 12 THE STAKE 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Thought mebbe ye meant th' driver," said the old 
 man, looking at him out of the corner of his eye and 
 chuckling. " Waal, as fer waggins, any contraption 
 with four wheels, thet'll stick to the exles, 's good 
 enough fer me." 
 
 " How about your passengers?" 
 
 " Oh, them folks c'n stand it all right. Does 'em 
 good to git a leetle shakin' up. Then, by the time 
 they've got fidgety an' cross, they come in sight of the 
 Cove, an' they fergit all about it. Ever been to the 
 Cove?" 
 
 " Once, when I was a small boy," replied Weston. 
 " But I don't remember anything about it." 
 
 " It ain't changed much in fifty years. Been livin' 
 in Boston ever sence ? " 
 
 " No, I've been studying in Boston the past five 
 years, but my home is in Connecticut." 
 
 " Harvard College, I s'pose ? " 
 
 " No. School of Technology." 
 
 " Hm ! Too much larnin' nowadays. People can't 
 do nothin' nateral. Hev to go to college to learn haow. 
 They was a feller up to th' Cove last summer tryin' 
 to tell me of a way t' teach bees haow t' make honey 
 'thout any honeycomb. I as'd him ef he couldn't send 
 me a first primer fer my bees, 'cause they hedn't yit 
 larned their A B C's. Then they wuz another one 
 wanted me t' try hatchin' eggs in a kind of a box 
 with a lamp under it, t' keep the eggs warm; but I 
 told him I wouldn't dast look my old hens in th' face, 
 ef I played sech a mean trick on 'em, an' it's my
 
 THE STAKE 13 
 
 opinion ef people git t' doin' their own hatchin', the 
 hens'll git disgusted, an' stop layin', jest's any decent 
 pusson'd do, ef their nateral ockipation wuz took 
 away frm 'em," 
 
 " By the way," said Weston, " do you know a man 
 in your town named Guilford ? " 
 
 His companion paused a moment to scratch his chin, 
 and rake his fingers through his long thin beard. 
 
 " Yes, I know him. Known him from a boy." 
 
 " How far is his house from the hotel ? " 
 
 " 'Baout a mile mile an' a half two mile." 
 
 "Which?" 
 
 "Which what?" 
 
 " Is it a mile, or a mile and a half, or two miles? " 
 . " De-pends on whether yer comin' or goin'." 
 
 "How's that?" 
 
 " Goin' it's up hill, an' comin' it's daown hill, an' I 
 tell yew it makes a difference of more'n a mile in th' 
 feelin' of yer legs." 
 
 " If we get to the Cove by four o'clock, I'd like to 
 have you take me direct to Guil ford's. Could you do 
 it?" 
 
 " Like's not, ef I tried hard." 
 
 " What kind of a man is Guilford?" 
 
 " Oh, jest the or'nary kind, with th' same number 
 o' hands an' feet as everybody. People all hev abaout 
 th' same inventory of pussonal belongin's. Some hev 
 a few more brains, but they don't allus know haow 
 to use th' su'plus. I hev known men with bigger hearts 
 than the usual run. Your uncle was jest thet kind. 
 Big-hearted Dick, ev'rybody called him."
 
 !I4 THE STAKE 
 
 Weston turned in surprise. 
 
 " My uncle," he said. " Why, who told you " 
 
 " You're the feller thet calls himself Richard Elroy 
 Weston, ain't ye ? " 
 
 "Yes, but" 
 
 " I thought so. But haow ye got the Elroy in yer 
 name is a puzzle to me. Must be fr'm yer mother's 
 side o' th' haouse. I never hed th' pleasure to meet 
 her." 
 
 By this time Weston had recovered his astonishment, 
 and there was a look of amused curiosity in his face. 
 
 " You seem to know my name, and all about me," 
 he said. " Won't you tell me who you are ? " 
 
 " My name's Ezry Guilford. Jes' plain Ezry. No 
 middle name, an' no frills, 'though th' neighbors do* 
 call me Square Guilford, 'cause of a leetle larnin' I 
 picked up in my younger days." 
 
 Weston laughed and held out his hand. 
 
 " Well, Squire, you certainly had the best of me. 
 I'm glad to make your acquaintance. Do you mean 
 to say that you knew who I was all the time, back 
 there at the station? " 
 
 " Yer letter said sunthin' 'baout comin' up Tues- 
 day, so I thought I'd go an' sort o' size ye up, an' ef 
 ye wan't tew cityfied to ride in my ol' waggin, I'd bring 
 ye back t' th' Cove. The name ye writ on yer letters 
 kind o' made me suspicious. I knowed ye wuz named 
 arter yer Uncle Dick, an' ' Richard Elroy Weston ' kind 
 o' stuck in my crop." 
 
 " Now, Squire, that's hardly fair. Everybody calls 
 me Dick, and so must you. When you wrote me about
 
 THE STAKE 15 
 
 Uncle Dick's death, and the will, you addressed me by 
 my full name, and so " 
 
 " Thet's th' way it stood in th' will, an' I hed t' give 
 ye legal notice. Ye see, yer Uncle Dick wuz careless 
 'baout some things, but mighty p'rtic'lar 'baout hevin' 
 ev'rythin' done legal. I drawed his will five years ago. 
 Thet's th' time yer father died, an' yer uncle sent ye 
 th' money t' go t' Boston t' school. Naow, last week, 
 arter th' funeral, I got t' worryin' 'baout th' will, an' 
 so I took it over t' th' Jedge o' Probate, an' when he 
 read it through, he kind o' laughed, an' said 'twas all 
 reg'lar, an' would go on th' record books all right 
 enough. 
 
 " They wan't much tew it. I c'n say it over word 
 fer word. It went like this : * I, Dick Weston ' he 
 wouldn't hev any other name put in. Said he couldn't 
 remember haow he wuz baptized, but he'd allus lived 
 as Dick Weston, an' he'd die under th' same name. 
 So I w r rote it jest thet way. ' I, Dick Weston, bein' 
 o' sound mind an' tol'ble health ' he wuz jest beginnin' 
 to ail 'baout thet time ' do make an' declare this to 
 be my last will an' testament.' Ye see I copied most 
 of it frum a book I hed, givin' all kinds o' legal 
 forms. * I give, devise, an' bequeath all I hev on 
 airth to my nephew, Richard Elroy Weston, the only 
 son of my beloved brother, Robert Weston.' Thet 
 wuz all they wuz, 'cept 'p'intin' me executor, an' th' 
 signin' o' th' witnesses." 
 
 Weston turned his head, and gazing over the rough 
 landscape, tried to picture the rugged character of the 
 man who had toiled alone through his lifetime, un-
 
 16 THE STAKE 
 
 cheered by wife or children, cherishing to the last a 
 loving memory of the brother of his boyhood days. 
 
 " Why wasn't I notified in time to be with him when 
 he died, or at least to have attended his funeral ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 Squire Guilford did not answer for a minute, and 
 then his voice was husky and low. 
 
 " Dick wuz pe-culiar. Jest before he died, he sent 
 f er me, an' he sez t' me, ' Ezry,' sez he, * I'm goin' t' 
 die/ sez he. ' An' I don't want no fuss made abaout 
 it neither.' Then he tol' me jest what t' do. Haow 
 he wuz t' be laid out, an' who wuz t' be th' bearers, 
 an' where he wuz t' be buried. He didn't want no 
 one t' be 'raound when he died, 'cept me an' th' doctor 
 t' kind o' make it easy fer him, an' he didn't want no 
 mourners jest th' preacher t' say a few prayers, an' 
 thet wuz all. He said folks hed enough things o' their 
 own t' feel bad abaout, 'thout bein' stirred up over 
 him. He said in p'rtic'lar thet he didn't want yew 
 notified 'til it wuz all over, 'cause it might bring a 
 shadder over yer life, an' he didn't want anythin' but 
 sunshine in it." 
 
 He paused a moment, then turning, and seeing the 
 tears in Weston's eyes, he reached over and grasped 
 his hand. 
 
 " He sot a great deal by yew, my son." 
 
 " And I did so little to show my gratitude for his 
 kindness. I can't even remember his face. It must 
 have been twelve years ago, when I was about thirteen, 
 that my father brought me up here to visit him. That's 
 the only time I ever saw him. Even when father died
 
 THE STAKE 17 
 
 he didn't come to see us ; and we didn't hear from him 
 until months afterwards." 
 
 " He wuz queer, wuz Dick ! " remarked the squire, 
 meditatively. " Wan't much f er seein' folks, 'cept a 
 few pussonal friends. Sort o' shy an' stand-offish. 
 They wuz only me an' yer father an' one other thet 
 ever got close t' him. Did ye ever happen t' hear yer 
 father mention Bill Rankin? No? Wall, perhaps he 
 wuz like me never seen him. All I know is, thet 
 they wuz a Bill Rankin some'eres aout West, thet wuz 
 a p'rtic'lar friend o' yer uncle. Leastwise so I jedge, 
 fer Dick used t' git letters fr'm him p'rty of'en, an' 
 twicet he went clear aout t' Michigan, t' see him." 
 
 " And he never came here ? " inquired Weston. " I 
 wonder if he knows of Uncle Dick's death? " 
 
 " I guess not. They's nobody could tell him 'cept 
 yer uncle, and in course " 
 
 Squire Guilford's powers of suggestion came to a 
 sudden end, and he drove on in silence for several min- 
 utes. Suddenly he slapped his hand on his knee, and 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " By George ! Thet's who he meant. Say ! I 
 didn't tell ye 'baout th' land in Michigan, did I? 
 Course I didn't. Waal, now, thet accounts fer th' slip 
 o' paper. Ye see, yer uncle went aout West when he 
 wuz a young man, an' wuz gone sev'ral years. It seems 
 he lived way up in the no'thern part o' Michigan, 
 though what on airth he wanted t' stay there fer, I 
 don't know, an' he wouldn't ever tell me much abaout 
 it. He seemed to hev a notion o' livin' in th' wilder- 
 ness alone. Waal, it seems he bought a piece o' land
 
 i8 THE STAKE 
 
 there, I don't know haow many acres. As near's I 
 could find aout fr'm him, it was princip'ly scenery, fer 
 he used t' tell abaout th' forests an' th' rocks, an' th' 
 brooks, but nothin' 'baout any fields or pastures. 
 Waal, th' other day when I wuz goin' over his papers, 
 I found some gov'ment patents o' this land, in yer 
 uncle's name, an' pinned to th' bundle wuz a piece o' 
 paper, sayin', * Bill looks arter this ' jest them words, 
 an' no more. It kind o' stumped me, but I c'n see 
 now thet he meant Bill Rankin. O' course this land 
 goes t' yew now, an' ye'll hev t' find aout where 
 Rankin lives, an' write t' him abaout it. But ye c'n 
 'tend t' thet any time. I guess th' land won't run 
 away." 
 
 " Did my uncle leave much property ? " inquired Wes- 
 ton, with some hesitation. He felt that the question 
 was somewhat cold-blooded, and yet he was curious to 
 know what his inheritance might be. 
 
 " Consid'ble," replied the squire, assuming a magis- 
 terial expression of countenance. " Consid'ble. Dick 
 wuz a p'rty forehanded kind of a man, an' as he 
 hed no fam'ly to look arter, natchly he laid by quite a 
 bit. O' course they's the old farm, 'baout two hun- 
 nerd acres all told, with th' haouse an' furnishin's. 
 Then they's th' brick store on th' corner across fr'm 
 th' post office. Then they's this 'ere land in Michigan. 
 An' then let me see, thet's abaout all the real estate. 
 Oh, yes, they's another piece o' scenery belonged t' 
 Dick he wuz th' queerest feller." 
 
 He paused to chuckle to himself. 
 
 "Whut d'ye think. 'Baout ten years ago, he
 
 THE STAKE 19 
 
 bought an island way off th' shore, called Roger's 
 Island. Ye c'n see it on a clear day fr'm th' hill back 
 o' th' Cove. Nothin' on airth but a big rock; nothin' 
 growin' on it but some patches o' coarse grass, an' a 
 few evergreen trees. Said he wanted t' own a place 
 where he wouldn't hev no neighbors. An' as sure 
 's I live didn't he build a kind of a cabin on thet rock, 
 an' ev'ry once in a while he'd take his dory an' sail 
 out there, an' stay perhaps a week at a time. Queer, 
 wan't it ? " 
 
 Weston nodded and puffed at his pipe. He could 
 imagine this man, seeking the solitude of that isolated 
 spot, where he might share his loneliness with the 
 loneliness of nature in her most forsaken form. The 
 bare rocks, the harsh, jagged cliffs, the roaring, growl- 
 ing sea, all would appeal to one who had so few ties 
 to bind him to his fellow-men. 
 
 " Then they wuz a lot o' notes, some good an* some 
 bad," continued the squire. " Dick wuz allus lendin' 
 money to his neighbors, an' wouldn't take no security. 
 They don't amount to more 'n two or three thousand 
 dollars, all told. The best thing he lied wuz his stock 
 in th' Bangor Bank, 'baout one hunnerd shares o' 
 thet, wuth a hunnerd an' fifty dollars a share. I sh'd 
 say the estate wuz wuth p'rty nigh fifty thousand dol- 
 lars, not countin' th' Michigan land, an' th' island, 
 which I don't s'pose is wuth much." 
 
 Fifty thousand dollars! The amount seemed large 
 to Weston. Since his father's death, his means had 
 been so limited, it was only through his uncle's aid 
 that he had been able to finish his education. Im-
 
 20 THE STAKE 
 
 patient to begin work and earn his own living, he had 
 applied for and been promised a good position which 
 he expected to take within the next two weeks, im- 
 mediately after his graduation. Then, in the midst 
 of his final examinations came the letter from Squire 
 Guilford. 
 
 " Fifty thousand dollars ! I wish Father could have 
 had it," he thought. " It might have pulled him 
 through. I wonder if he ever asked Uncle Dick to 
 help him. Probably not. What a contrast in their 
 lives! One trying to escape from the world of men 
 to the world of nature, the other fighting his way 
 amid the turmoil and distractions of the city, and the 
 business struggles of men of activity." 
 
 " Whew ! " exclaimed the squire. " It's gittin' hot, 
 but this is the last hill, an' when we've clum to th' 
 top, ye'll git a whiff o' salt air. Keep your eyes 
 peeled, 'cause when we round th' top, ye can see the 
 Atlantic Ocean." 
 
 Weston roused himself from his reverie, and drew 
 a long breath. 
 
 " I can smell it already," he said. 
 
 " Thar she is ! Thar's th' sea ! " cried the squire. 
 "Whoa! Whoa thar! Waal, whut d'ye think o' thet 
 f er a paneramy ? " 
 
 Standing up in the wagon, Weston gazed out over 
 the far-stretching view of jagged rock and dancing, sun- 
 lit waves. 
 
 " Look ! " cried his companion, pointing with his 
 whip. " D'ye see thet black spot off thar, looks 
 'baout's big's a chunk o' cheese? Thet's Roger's
 
 THE STAKE 21 
 
 Island. Thet's yourn. Ha ha ha he he 
 he ! Haow'd ye like t' live thar ? " 
 
 " There might be worse places," replied Weston, 
 smiling. " Perhaps I'll try it some day."
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 TO the living Dick Western, filled with the enthu- 
 siasm of young manhood and animated by the 
 hopes and possibilities of the future, it was a strange 
 experience to see and handle the forsaken possessions 
 of that other Dick Weston, whose life-work was ended, 
 and whose results, whether failure or success, were 
 unchangeably fixed in the records of the past. 
 
 In the old-fashioned sitting-room, which had been 
 his uncle's favorite resort for many years, he sat in 
 the long-spindled rocking-chair, with a mass of papers 
 spread over the rag carpet at his feet, and tried to find 
 courage to destroy most of them. Into a large basket 
 he threw, ruthlessly, bundles of old bills and receipts, 
 packages of newspaper clippings, and odds and ends 
 which might have been treasured mementos of the 
 life which was gone, but were valueless in the life 
 which was to come. 
 
 Perched upon the very edge of the seat of a straight- 
 backed chair, sat Mrs. Calista Briggs, usually known 
 as Widow Briggs, and commonly called " the widder." 
 It was no easy matter for her to endure the advent of 
 a new master into the house where for years she 
 had ruled as housekeeper, and where, at one time, she 
 had hoped to attain a higher position. That the late 
 Dick Weston died in the sanctity of bachelorhood was
 
 THE STAKE 23 
 
 not for lack of a helpmeet ready at hand, willing to 
 become Mrs. Weston ; and Mrs. Briggs' grief over the 
 loss of a generous friend and employer was the more 
 poignant that she could not express it in widow's weeds. 
 As a substitute for this, she wore a dolorous expres- 
 sion upon her sharp features, emphasized from time 
 to time by a very audible snuffle. This operation, ac- 
 companied by the frequent use of her handkerchief, 
 had given to her long pointed nose a fiery red color. 
 Her dark hair, brushed smoothly over her ears, was 
 twisted in a small knot at the back of her head, and 
 her piercing black eyes watched Weston jealously, as 
 she volunteered information in a high nasal voice. 
 
 " Them letters with th' blew ribbon air private cor- 
 respondence," she remarked, as Weston picked up a 
 package of old yellow envelopes, whose pink three-cent 
 stamps told of the sixties. 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Weston, smiling. " Do you know 
 who wrote them ? " 
 
 " Er no not exactly. He kep' 'em locked 
 up in a place by themselves." 
 
 Weston laid them aside and picked up another 
 bundle of newspaper clippings tied together with a 
 black ribbon. 
 
 " Death notices," said Mrs. Briggs. 
 
 "What, all of them?" 
 
 " Yes. He used to cut 'em all out of th' Weekly Sen- 
 tinel." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " Oh, he kind o' kep' tab of ev'rybody an' their family 
 doin's. Ye'll find a bundle o' marriage notices too."
 
 24 THE STAKE 
 
 " Perhaps they're valuable." 
 
 " I never could see no use fer 'em, an' they wuz allus 
 in th' way, 'specially at house-cleanin' time." 
 
 " Before I destroy them, I'll find out if anybody 
 wants them." 
 
 " T' think of all th' time he spent collecting them 
 things, an' now " Mrs. Briggs gave an unusually 
 loud snuffle. 
 
 " This seems to be a lot of epitaphs taken from tomb- 
 stones," said Weston, carelessly turning over the leaves 
 of an old book. 
 
 " He wuz allus praowlin' 'raound th' graveyard, 
 writin' daown th' names. I guess he hed an idee o' 
 puttin' it all in a book, so's t' hev a record of all th' 
 families in th' taown." 
 
 " Perhaps he was getting material for a town his- 
 tory. I believe I'll bundle all this stuff in a box, and 
 turn it over to some one. Will they be in your way, 
 Mrs. Briggs?" 
 
 " No more'n they hev been fer the las' ten years." 
 
 She hesitated a moment, and then asked abruptly : 
 
 " Wuz ye thinkin' o' hevin' me stay here? " 
 
 " Of course. Squire Guilford says I'll not come into 
 actual possession for a year, and even then I wouldn't 
 sell the old house unless I needed the money badly. I 
 thought perhaps you could stay here and take care of 
 the place, and, with a man to help you, you could 
 get enough out of it to pay for keeping it up. I 
 wouldn't ask you for any rent. Don't you think you 
 could do it?" 
 
 There was a faint expression of relief in the hard,
 
 THE STAKE 25 
 
 bony face, but her words gave no intimation of such 
 a sentiment. 
 
 " I s'pose I could, but it'll be an awful chore. Whut 
 with lookin' arter four caows, an' a passel o' hens, 
 an' keepin' up th' garding, t' say nothin' o' th' haouse- 
 work, but I ain't one to shirk my dooty, an' I s'pose 
 I'll hev t' do it. They ain't no one else ye c'd git, 
 that's sure." 
 
 It was a relief to Weston to have that much settled. 
 He had been at Atherton's Cove for three days, busied 
 with the affairs of his uncle's estate. There was 
 nothing more for him to do at present. He could 
 leave the rest to Guilford, and go back to Boston to 
 finish his examinations and enter upon the duties of his 
 new position. 
 
 " Hed hard work persuadin' her, didn't ye ? " laughed 
 the squire, when Weston explained his arrangement 
 with Mrs. Briggs. " I'll bet she let on she wuz doin' 
 ye a favor. Waal, I'm glad ye got her settled. I 
 swan t' goodness, I didn't know haow ye'd ever git her 
 out o' th' haouse, onless ye burned it daown over her 
 head. She'll take good care of it. Don't yew worry. 
 But the Lord help ye, if ye ever try to put her aout. 
 She's lived there s' long, she thinks she owns it. An' 
 she would ha' owned it ef Dick hedn't give her the 
 slip when she got goin' too strong. Yes, sir, I b'lieve 
 she'd ha' got him an' all th' prop'ty, ef he'd lived a 
 year longer. Why, thet's one o' th' reasons why he 
 used t' go over t' th' island an' stay a week at a time, 
 jes' t' git away from th' widder, when she began to 
 git too strong f er him."
 
 26 THE STAKE 
 
 Weston reminded his companion that, for a year at 
 least, he was in charge of the estate, and would have 
 to deal with her himself. 
 
 " Not f er me, my son ! Not fer me ! I wouldn't 
 dast set foot in th' haouse 'thout Mis' Guilford wuz 
 by my side. I'll take care o' th' farm, an' c'lect th' 
 rent from th' store, an' try t' c'lect some o' th' notes, 
 but I'll not look arter th' haouse while thet woman's 
 there, any more'n I'd go aout an' sleep on Roger's 
 Island, th' way yer uncle used t'." 
 
 " How far is it to the island ? " asked Weston. 
 
 " 'Baout twenty mile. Ye wan't thinkin' o' goin' 
 over there ? " 
 
 " Yes, I'd like to see the place." 
 
 " Waal, it ain't much of a sail, when th' wind's fair. 
 There's yer uncle's old dory daown by th' wharf. Do 
 ye know haow t' sail a boat ? " 
 
 Weston smiled. 
 
 " You needn't worry about that. I've sailed on the 
 Sound ever since I was twelve years old." 
 
 " Waal, yew know best. I ain't much of a sailor 
 myself. But, ef ye go, I'd advise ye t' git an airly 
 start in th' mornin', so's t' hev plenty o' time t' git 
 back 'fore night. They's a chance, allus, of hevin' 
 a head wind, an' fogs, an' p'rhaps a storm." 
 
 "I've been out in all kinds of weather," replied 
 Weston confidently. " If uncle's dory is in good con- 
 dition, I'll take the chances." 
 
 " Waal, take along plenty t' eat an' drink, 'cause 
 ye might git 'cammed. When ye goin' ? " 
 
 " It's too late to-day, but I'll go down and look at
 
 THE STAKE 27 
 
 the boat. If it's all right, maybe I'll sail over to- 
 morrow morning, if the wind's favorable. You say 
 there is a house or a cabin on the island? " 
 
 " Mus' be, 'cause Dick used t' stay there a week at 
 a time. I never see th' place, but some of th' fisher- 
 men wuz there, an' said they see some kind of a shed 
 on top o' th' rocks, but they never clum up to it. 
 Say now, yew ain't thinkin' o' stayin' there all night, 
 be ye?" 
 
 " I might," replied Weston, reflectively. " If I go 
 as far as the island, I will certainly take a look at the 
 house. I want to see what drew him to such an 
 isolated spot. As for staying there all night well, 
 you needn't worry if I don't come back. The wind 
 may be against me, or it may be too stormy, and now 
 that I think of it, I'm rather inclined to spend the 
 night there. I'll take along a blanket, and plenty to 
 eat, anyhow." 
 
 The more he thought of the plan, the more attractive 
 it seemed, and the distant sound of the surf, with the 
 smell of the salt air, intensified his longing to be out 
 again upon the water as in his boyhood days. 
 
 He found the dory in charge of Captain Jarvis, more 
 familiarly called " Dad," an old sailor, stranded in 
 port, minus one leg, and indifferently supplied with 
 means of hearing and seeing. It was Dad's special 
 and only occupation to look after everybody's business 
 except his own. Not that he had any business, but that 
 was perhaps a result rather than a cause. During 
 the season he was the maritime oracle, to whom the 
 boarders at the summer hotel turned for information
 
 28 THE STAKE 
 
 of boating and fishing, as well as of the weather and 
 tides. The remaining nine months of the year found 
 him either hibernating in his little cottage at the foot 
 of the cliff, or working lazily at the repairing of some 
 of the small craft which lay in the harbor. 
 
 To him, Weston gave the job of getting the dory 
 ready for use, and from him received good humoredly, 
 a great deal of superfluous advice. 
 
 In the morning he found the boat taken from its 
 moorings and laid alongside of the wharf, where she 
 rose and fell gently on the swell, her mast set, her 
 woodwork well scrubbed, and a keg of spring water 
 already stowed away in the bow. 
 
 " Fine day for a sail, Dad," cried Weston, as he 
 greeted the old sailor, soon after sunrise. 
 
 " Tol'ble, tol'ble," was the reply. " Can't tell much 
 abaout th' weather in May. Wind's li'ble to shift." 
 
 He sniffed the air, rolled his eyes wisely, and re- 
 marked : 
 
 " Don't smell jes' right." 
 
 " I've got a stern wind straight for Roger's Island," 
 said Weston, " and if I am to get back to-night, I'll 
 want it to shift. The swell doesn't bother me, so long 
 as I get a breeze." 
 
 " Ye orter take some-un along t' help ye. Be ye 
 used t' sailin' ? " 
 
 " I've handled a boat ever since I can remember, 
 but I'd be glad to have you come along with me for 
 company." 
 
 "Ain't got time to-day. An* say, ef yer goin' t' 
 Roger's Island an' ba.ck 'fore night, ye'd better git
 
 THE STAKE 29 
 
 started. Ye don't want t' git ketched arter dark 
 'thout ye know th' course. They's a sight o' rocks out 
 yonder, but ef ye keep a straight line from the Nar- 
 rows, ye've got clear sailin'." 
 
 An hour later, Weston sat in the dory, with sail full 
 spread, speeding out through the entrance of the 
 harbor, headed for the island. The boat held straight 
 on its course, and, resting his arm on the tiller, he 
 stretched out lazily and gave himself up to dreams, now 
 and then glancing ahead to see that his direction was 
 true, or slightly shifting the helm to meet a sudden 
 gust of wind. 
 
 Young, ambitious, and eager to plunge into the ac- 
 tivities of life, there yet hung over him the shadow 
 of the grief and trouble which had saddened and em- 
 bittered the past few years. The death of his father 
 had followed a long disheartening business struggle 
 against overwhelming odds; for Robert Weston had 
 fallen victim to the new order of things by which in- 
 dependent American manhood must yield to the irre- 
 sistible power of combined wealth. 
 
 When the great syndicate which had persistently 
 absorbed one industry after another, found this man 
 unwilling to yield to its humiliating demands, it pre- 
 pared to crush him. The result was inevitable. After 
 a long fight which exhausted all his energies and capi- 
 tal, the unfortunate man had gone down to his grave 
 in defeat, defiant to the last. 
 
 His wife soon followed him, leaving their only 
 child, a grief-stricken lad of twenty, to face the world 
 alone. And then, when the future seemed darkest,
 
 30 THE STAKE 
 
 there had come to the orphaned boy a message of cheer 
 and a promise of help from that lonely man, his uncle, 
 of whom he knew so little, and to whom he could never 
 make any return for his generosity. 
 
 The memory of all this came to Dick Weston this 
 bright sunny morning as he sailed through the Nar- 
 rows, headed for Roger's Island. But even the sun- 
 shine and the exhilaration of the sea air could not 
 drive the gloom from his thoughts, as he recalled his 
 father's wrongs, and all he had suffered. He was filled 
 with a desire for revenge or some kind of retaliation 
 upon the men or the system which had caused such 
 conditions. But what could he do? Nothing. As 
 well drive his little craft against the immovable and 
 jagged front of that great rock towards which he was 
 sailing. 
 
 He was nearing the island now and could observe 
 its desolate and forbidding appearance. The west side 
 was an inaccessible cliff rising a hundred feet or more 
 from the water's edge. No vegetation of any kind was 
 visible, but flocks of sea birds hovered along its sides, 
 circling in air or perching on its projecting crags. 
 Changing his course, Weston worked his way around 
 the southern end of the island, where the sides of the 
 rock appeared more broken, with here and there little 
 inlets, in one of which he determined to try a landing. 
 With some difficulty he brought his boat about, and 
 with the aid of an oar pushed his way through a narrow 
 opening which seemed to offer a favorable channel. 
 To his surprise he found that it widened out con- 
 siderably, forming a kind of harbor within which
 
 THE STAKE 31 
 
 floated four large logs securely bound together and 
 fastened to a heavy iron ring firmly fixed in the solid 
 rock. 
 
 Convinced that he had, by good chance, discovered 
 his uncle's landing-place, Weston brought his boat 
 alongside of the logs and went ashore. Following a 
 path which led upwards, winding in and out among the 
 bowlders and crags, he finally reached the top of the 
 cliff and paused, hot and panting, to look out over the 
 broad expanse of water. 
 
 Away in the distance he could see the coast line and 
 the sunlight shining upon the whitewashed houses at 
 Atherton's Cove, while to the south and east stretched 
 the ocean, with here and there a sail, faintly visible, 
 and the trailing smoke of a steamer besmirching the 
 pale blue of the distant horizon. 
 
 The isolation of the place was complete. Here, 
 where he stood, was Nature in her primeval condi- 
 tion. The world of art and invention, of human pas- 
 sion and human ambition, lay far away. The petty 
 things of life could have no abiding place here where 
 the outlook was broad and unbroken. His own feel- 
 ings gave him some insight into that peculiar element 
 of his uncle's character which had induced him to seek 
 a spot of solitude far-removed from the companionship 
 of his fellow-men. 
 
 Curious to know more, he turned to follow the path 
 which led up a slight incline to the very pinnacle of 
 the great rock, where the prospect opened towards the 
 north. Near at hand stood a cluster of bowlders, not 
 unlike the ruins of some ancient dolmen, which formed
 
 32 THE STAKE 
 
 a natural protection, and here, snugly sheltered on 
 three sides by immovable walls, had been placed a small 
 hut or cabin constructed of heavy timbers, with a door 
 and one window facing south and a low roof spreading 
 to the rocks on either side. The front of the building 
 was about fifteen feet across, and at each corner stood 
 a barrel to catch the water from the eaves. Near the 
 door was a low bench upon which Weston seated him- 
 self, and, wiping the perspiration from his brow, gave 
 himself up again to the enjoyment of the view. 
 
 Upon his left he observed that the island sloped 
 gradually downward towards the northeast, with a 
 path leading to the water's edge. At first he won- 
 dered why his uncle had not chosen this part of the 
 shore for his landing-place. The reason, however, was 
 soon evident, as his eye caught sight of a line of out- 
 lying rocks which made the waters on this side of the 
 island almost impassable. 
 
 The reef seemed to stretch out into the sea a 
 quarter of a mile, and against it the dashing waves 
 kept up a constant roar. Even in a mild wind, the 
 churning of the waters spread in all directions a white 
 foam, through which the black jagged points stood out 
 like ugly fangs, threatening death to any reckless mar- 
 iner who might approach them. 
 
 Fascinated with the sight, Weston lingered for some 
 time to watch the endless play of the surf, now leaping 
 in air, now hissing and gliding among the rocks, now 
 sullenly retiring for another dash. At last he rose, 
 and unlocking the door with a key which he found 
 hanging at the side, entered the cabin, but paused a
 
 THE STAKE 33 
 
 moment, after crossing the threshold, to survey the in- 
 terior. 
 
 The floor, well-laid and even, was covered with a 
 large rag-carpet rug. In the farther corner stood a 
 cot-bed, ready for use. On the other side of the room 
 was a cook stove, and near it a pile of wood, while on 
 the wall adjoining, were shelves bearing a few dishes 
 and utensils. At the foot of the bed stood a wash- 
 stand, and in the foreground was a square table cov- 
 ered with a red cloth, and a lamp standing in the cen- 
 ter. In a rack were a few books, a spyglass, and a 
 clock. There were two chairs, a chest, a pair of heavy 
 boots on the floor near the stove, and an oil-skin coat 
 and sou'wester hanging on a nail. 
 
 Weston took all this in at a glance, and then entering 
 the room, opened a small window at the rear and threw 
 back the shutters, letting in the fresh air and bright 
 sunlight. 
 
 At first he had an uncanny feeling, as he thought of 
 the man who had last occupied this tiny home. But 
 this soon passed away and he became interested in ex- 
 amining the many things which had been supplied to 
 make the place habitable. The firewood must have 
 been brought from home, he decided, for there cer- 
 tainly could be no wood on the island. Upon the 
 shelves there were cans containing coffee, salt, sugar, 
 and other necessities for housekeeping. Below these, 
 on the floor, stood a can of oil and a lantern, and near by 
 was a water pail and dipper. There was, in the at- 
 mosphere of the room, a sense of solitude, of retirement 
 from the world, which appealed to Weston's mood and
 
 34 THE STAKE 
 
 gave him a delightful feeling of comfort and cozy se- 
 clusion. 
 
 Looking at his watch, he found that it was after 
 one o'clock, and suddenly discovered that he was 
 hungry. Opening the lunch basket which he had 
 brought from the boat, he spread upon the table the 
 bountiful supply of food that Mrs. Guilford had pro- 
 vided, and sat down to his meal with a relish which 
 was heightened, perhaps, by a sense of proprietorship. 
 From time to time he looked about the room with full 
 enjoyment of the novelty of the situation, until, yield- 
 ing to the inviting influence of the place, he decided to 
 stay all night, to sleep there amid the sound of the 
 waves dashing on the rocks; then to get up at sunrise, 
 have breakfast including a cup of hot coffee cooked 
 on the stove and sail home in the cool of the early 
 morning. 
 
 He lighted his pipe, tipped back in his chair, and 
 looked out through the door, as through a picture 
 frame, at the rolling waves, touched by the afternoon 
 sun. For some time he sat contentedly smoking and 
 musing until, as the afternoon began to wane, he rose 
 and busied himself about the cabin, airing the bed, 
 filling the lamp with oil, and preparing a fire for his 
 next meal. Later he went down to his boat and 
 brought up a pail of water from the keg, with other 
 things he might need. Then finding that he had nearly 
 two hours before sunset, he set out to explore the 
 island. When he returned it was time for supper, and 
 this finished, he sat down on the bench outside the 
 door to enjoy the sunset.
 
 THE STAKE 35 
 
 Up from the west shot great tongues of red that 
 tinted the scudding clouds which began to appear over- 
 head. The sea became golden, then fiery, then duller 
 and duller, until, as Weston turned towards the east, 
 he found it a sullen gray, with an ominous background 
 of storm clouds. He noticed, too, that the wind had 
 shifted, and was bringing a chill dampness from the 
 northeast. Knocking the ashes from his pipe, he went 
 indoors, lighted the lamp, and, selecting at random a 
 book from the rack, he settled himself comfortably in 
 an easy chair for a quiet evening. 
 
 For about an hour he read, hardly able to fix his 
 mind on the pages before him, until he found himself 
 nodding drowsily. Throwing aside the book, he rose 
 with a yawn, and, going to the door, looked out into 
 the night. The sky was now heavily overcast, and the 
 wind fast becoming a gale. From the reef on the east 
 shore arose a snarling, crashing, hissing sound, as the 
 breakers tore their way among the ragged rocks. From 
 where the sea broke against the cliffs, there came a 
 constant roar, and through it all could be heard the 
 whistling of the wind, as it found each crevice and 
 chasm. 
 
 This storm music continued to ring in Weston's 
 ears after he went to bed, but, drowsily conscious of 
 the turmoil without, and with a delightful sense of the 
 cozy shelter of his cabin, he yielded at last to the fa- 
 tigue and excitement of the day, and sank into the pro- 
 found slumber of healthy youth.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 IT was about midnight that Weston was awakened 
 by a crash of thunder which left him sitting upright 
 in bed, bewildered and confused. In the inky darkness 
 he could see nothing, but a sense of strange surround- 
 ings quickened his mind, and he soon remembered 
 where he was. The next instant a sharp flash of light- 
 ning revealed the interior of the cabin; another peal 
 of thunder followed, and, as it rolled away in sullen 
 growls, he could hear the beating of the rain upon the 
 roof, and the dismal howling of the wind, now wailing 
 in plaintive tones, now shrieking in fury; and, through 
 all, the deep diapason of the sea, as it roared beneath 
 the scourge of the tempest. 
 
 Weston rose, went to the window, and peered out 
 into the night, but even the constant flashes of light- 
 ning revealed only the driving sheets of rain. He 
 lighted the lamp and looked at his watch. He had 
 been asleep only a few hours. As he moved about the 
 room, his eye caught the oil-skin coat and hat, and the 
 heavy boots which seemed to have been provided for 
 just such weather. The idea occurred to him to put 
 them on and go out into the storm. In a few minutes 
 he was dressed and completely encased in the water- 
 proof garments. Taking the lantern with him, he 
 opened the door and plunged out through a torrent of
 
 THE STAKE 37 
 
 rain which deluged him from head to foot. With dif-. 
 ficulty he closed the door and tried to look about him, 
 but, beyond the circle of light cast by his lantern, every- 
 thing was in pitch darkness. On the eastern side of 
 the island he could hear the waves ceaselessly dashing 
 among the jagged rocks of the reef, and a brilliant 
 flash of lightning gave him a momentary view of the 
 masses of white spray which shot up into the air from 
 the boiling, seething maelstrom at the foot of the slope. 
 
 Suddenly in the midst of the discord of sounds there 
 came to his ear the deep hoarse whistle of a steamer, 
 repeated at regular intervals. 
 
 " What an awful night to be on the water ! " he 
 thought. 
 
 The wind brought the sound more distinctly. 
 
 " That seems like a call of distress," he muttered. 
 " It can't be far east of here." 
 
 Again, and clearer came the weird note, like a call 
 for help. 
 
 " Nearer than that ! By George, I hope they know 
 what they're about ! " 
 
 Holding his lantern above his head, he moved slowly 
 and carefully a short distance away from the cabin 
 and tried to determine the location of the sound. Now 
 it was lost entirely in the babel of noises about him, 
 and then a fiercer blast of the gale would bring, clear 
 and distinct, that monotonous cry, which seemed almost 
 human in its appeal. 
 
 " They are certainly coming nearer," he said to him- 
 self, with a feeling of impending horror, as he crept 
 cautiously further and further towards the cliff. Sud-
 
 38 THE STAKE 
 
 denly there came to him through the turmoil, the sound 
 of machinery and hissing steam. 
 
 " My God ! " he cried aloud. " They are coming this 
 way!" 
 
 Upon the impulse, he shouted at the top of his lungs, 
 and waved his lantern to and fro, but in the next mo- 
 ment, realized the uselessness of his efforts. There 
 was no doubt that the steamer was rapidly approaching 
 the eastern shore of the island, and Weston shuddered 
 as he thought of the reef of jagged rocks upon which 
 it must inevitably be wrecked if it held to its course. 
 
 Again he waved his lantern in the forlorn hope that 
 it might be seen. In the next instant, as if in answer 
 to his signal, a sheet of lightning shot over the waters, 
 and revealed the ill-fated craft only a short distance 
 away, drifting before the wind, and bearing straight 
 down upon the rocks. 
 
 She appeared to be a steam yacht, and was evidently 
 disabled, for Weston could no longer hear her engines, 
 and she seemed, in the brief glimpse which he had of 
 her, to be rolling helplessly in the trough of the sea. 
 
 " It's a wonder that she hasn't foundered before 
 this," said he, shuddering at the thought. " But it's 
 all up with her now; and here I stand, unable to help 
 them." 
 
 The knowledge that there, almost within reach of 
 his voice, human beings were going to their death, hor- 
 rified him. In his utter helplessness, he could think 
 of nothing to do. Tortured by the thought, and unable 
 to endure the inaction, he scrambled down the hill as 
 fast as he dared, stumbling over loose rocks, slipping,
 
 THE STAKE 39 
 
 sliding, with his lantern held high and his arm stretched 
 out to help break the dash of the rain, which beat upon 
 his face and well-nigh choked him. At last he came 
 to where the wash of the waves swept up to his feet. 
 Cautiously feeling his way, and seeking shelter, from 
 time to time, behind the rocks, he finally reached a point 
 beyond which he dared not venture. Here, clinging 
 to an immense bowlder, he waited, still holding his 
 lantern on high, and facing in the direction of the 
 yacht. The waves swirled about him, but still he 
 waited, with the fascination of horror, for the awful 
 sound which he knew must come. 
 
 At last he heard the crash as the vessel struck the 
 reef, and then another, as she was lifted high and 
 dashed upon those sharp and hungry fangs. Then, in 
 a flash of lightning, he saw her, a ruined thing, torn 
 and smashed, and in the power of the cruel and merci- 
 less sea. 
 
 But, in that one glimpse of her, he saw also a boat 
 being lowered from her side, and frantic forms seeking 
 this one forlorn chance of escape. He shouted, and 
 waved his lantern. Alas! What hope was there? A 
 boat could not live in those waters two minutes. He 
 staggered under the force of a great wave whose spray 
 strangled and blinded him, but recovered himself and 
 again waved his lantern. Now he heard an answering 
 shout. He called again to encourage them. It was 
 all he could do. Another flash showed the boat not 
 a hundred yards from him, struggling among the break- 
 ers; then, in the deep darkness which followed, he 
 heard a scream, a crash, and knew that out there in
 
 40 THE STAKE 
 
 the blackness of the night, just beyond reach of his 
 arm, human beings were going down to their death in 
 the hungry waves. 
 
 Breathlessly he listened for some sound. He stared 
 into the gloom, waiting for he knew not what. Then, 
 without any warning, a gigantic wave struck him, some- 
 thing was hurled against him, a woman's voice screamed 
 in his ear, and he was carried backward against the 
 rock, clinging to the form which lay in his arms, gasp- 
 ing for breath, and with a sharp pain in the back of 
 his head. 
 
 Stunned and bleeding, he struggled to bring his bur- 
 den to the higher ground. In the darkness he could 
 only guess at the direction, except as the flashes of 
 lightning gave him a momentary view of his surround- 
 ings. When, at last, he came to where the waves could 
 no longer reach him, he turned once more towards the 
 sea, and listened for some cry from those unfortunate 
 ones who had come so near to rescue, but no sound 
 reached his ear, save the incessant roar of the waters. 
 He tried to look at the face of the woman, lying limp 
 and motionless in his arms. 
 
 " Do you think you could stand ? " he called, but 
 there was no answer. 
 
 Determined that this one life, at least, should be 
 saved, he started up the hill, pausing now and then to 
 get his bearings, as the flashes of lightning illuminated 
 the rocky slope and showed him the path. Holding 
 fast the unconscious form, he struggled on, panting and 
 stumbling, until he saw the lamplight shining from the 
 window of his cabin. By an almost superhuman ef-
 
 THE STAKE 41 
 
 fort, he reached the door, threw it open, and staggered 
 into the room. 
 
 A blast of wind extinguished the lamp, but he found 
 his way to the bed, laid down his burden, and then, 
 thoroughly exhausted, he dropped into a chair, com- 
 pletely overcome, groaning with pain, and gasping from 
 weakness. 
 
 The rain beat through the open door, but he could 
 not stir. Cut and bruised, drenched and chilled to the 
 bone, his eyes smarting, his head ringing, he fought 
 to regain his senses. When he attempted to rise, his 
 knees gave way, and he almost fell to the floor. Drag- 
 ging himself across the room, he managed to shut the 
 door, and then, leaning against the wall, found a match 
 and lighted the lamp. 
 
 For a moment his eyes were dazzled, and then he 
 saw within reach of his hand, his lunch basket, and a 
 bottle of home-made wine which Mrs. Guilford had 
 fortunately provided. Pouring some into a glass, he 
 took it to the bedside, and tried, with trembling hands, 
 to force some of the wine between the lips of the seem- 
 ingly lifeless girl. He placed his ear close to her 
 breast, and, to his relief, heard the faint beating of 
 her heart. Taking one of the heavy comforters from 
 the foot of the bed, he wrapped her body in it, raised 
 her head, and again tried to force some of the wine 
 into her mouth. She gave a faint sigh, moaned, and 
 rolled her head from side to side. 
 
 Weston racked his brains to think of some other 
 remedy, and then remembering that he had prepared 
 the stove for cooking his breakfast, he found another
 
 42 THE STAKE 
 
 match, and soon had a fire burning briskly, with a ket- 
 tle of water simmering over the flame. He was busied 
 about this for several minutes, and when at last he 
 turned once more to the bed, he found two frightened 
 eyes looking up at him, while a trembling voice was 
 saying : 
 
 "Where is Mabel, and and Mrs. Ellison?" 
 
 " I don't know," answered Weston truthfully. 
 
 The girl, who seemed to be quite young, stared at 
 him in surprise, and tried to rise. 
 
 "Wait!" said Weston, gently. "You mustn't get 
 up just yet. Take some more of this wine, and as 
 soon as the water boils, I'll make you a cup of tea or 
 coffee." 
 
 " I don't know who you are," said she in a trembling 
 voice. " Where am I ? " 
 
 " You're perfectly safe. But you are terribly ex- 
 hausted. You must keep quiet until " 
 
 He was interrupted by a low cry. 
 
 " Oh ! I remember now. The awful storm, and 
 and the rocks we tried to get away the boat oh 
 oh" 
 
 She covered her eyes with her hand and sobbed bit- 
 terly. 
 
 Weston turned away and busied himself about the 
 fire. He felt stronger now, and he knew that he had 
 much to do. He looked at his watch, and found that 
 there was still an hour before daylight. Meanwhile he 
 could hear outside the storm raging with unabated 
 force. The room was getting hot, and the air was 
 filled with the odor of damp clothing. He had re-
 
 THE STAKE 43 
 
 moved his oil-skins and boots, and now as he searched 
 among the dishes for a coffee-pot, he turned again 
 towards the bed, and found those two eyes anxiously 
 watching him. 
 
 " Do you feel better now ? " he said, with a reassur- 
 ing smile. 
 
 She did not answer him at first, and then, " Where 
 are the others ? " she asked plaintively. 
 
 Weston hesitated. 
 
 " I really don't know," he stammered. " I hope I 
 hope they were saved. You know it was very dark, 
 and and I couldn't see very well." 
 
 " But you found me." 
 
 "Yes, but " 
 
 " Then why didn't you help the others ? Why did 
 you bring me here alone ? " 
 
 " I saw no one but you." 
 
 " But you should have waited. Won't you please go 
 back and find the others?" 
 
 "Now?" 
 
 " Yes. Please go now. And bring them here. I'll 
 wait. I'll not run away." 
 
 Weston looked at her with pity. She seemed so 
 young and so helpless. Her white face, framed in a 
 mass of black hair, wet and draggled, was turned to 
 him with an appeal which went to his heart. How 
 could he tell her? How could he care for her? If 
 only some woman were present to give her a woman's 
 attention! He came to her side and tried to take her 
 hand. She shrank from him and a look of fear came 
 into her eyes.
 
 '44 THE STAKE 
 
 "Won't you trust me?" he said gently, looking 
 down upon her. 
 
 She stared at him, and tried to speak, but he could 
 not hear her words. 
 
 " Do you remember how you tried to get to shore in 
 the boat?" he asked. 
 
 " Yes," she whispered. 
 
 "And how you struck against a rock, and all were 
 thrown into the water ? " 
 
 She did not answer, but the look of anxiety and fear 
 came again into her eyes. 
 
 " I was standing on the shore waiting to help if I 
 could. You were the only one cast up by the waves. 
 In the darkness I could see nothing could hear noth- 
 ing of the others. The storm and the sea beat upon 
 me, but I fought my way to safety, and brought you 
 here. It was all I could do." 
 
 She buried her face in her hands, and he turned 
 away. 
 
 Later, when he brought her a cup of coffee, she shook 
 her head. But when he insisted that she drink it, she 
 took the cup from his hand, and raising herself upon 
 her elbow, she sipped it slowly, her eyes fixed upon him, 
 as though still in doubt. 
 
 " Do you feel warm now ? " he asked. 
 
 She nodded her head. 
 
 " Whenever you are strong enough to sit up, I'll carry 
 you to the chair, and you can dry your clothes by the 
 fire. They must be soaking wet." 
 
 He tried to speak in a matter-of-fact tone, but she 
 made no reply. Her silence embarrassed him. He
 
 THE STAKE 45 
 
 turned away, poured a cup of coffee for himself, and 
 went to the table where stood his lunch basket. 
 
 " There is some food here," he said. " Won't you 
 eat something?" 
 
 "Thank you! No." 
 
 He faced her impatiently. 
 
 " I think you should take some food. I am sure 
 you are hungry. Come, try this piece of chicken, or 
 here's a sandwich." 
 
 He forced the food into her hands, and waited until 
 he saw her eat it. 
 
 "There! That's better. Now, don't you feel able 
 to get up?" 
 
 At first she did not reply. Then a faint flush came 
 to her cheek as she asked: 
 
 " Is there no one else in the house to help me no 
 no woman ? " 
 
 " No one," he replied. " This is all there is of the 
 house just this one room." 
 
 "And no one next door?" she inquired. 
 
 He did not smile. His pity for her helplessness made 
 him gravely tender. 
 
 "You don't understand," he said gently. "We are 
 on an island a great rock in the midst of the ocean. 
 This is the only house, and we two are the only in- 
 habitants of this small spot of earth." 
 
 The look of fear came again to her eyes. 
 
 " But how how shall I get to shore ? How shall 
 I ever get home? Home! Oh, shall I ever see home 
 again ? " 
 
 She turned her face away from him, and wept softly.
 
 46 THE STAKE 
 
 " As soon as possible, I'll take you a-shore. Please 
 don't grieve over it any more. Come. You must trust 
 me. Can't you overcome the fear you show every time 
 I speak to you? I am no ogre, no cannibal, just a 
 plain ordinary man, although from present appear- 
 ances you might think I was the ghost of Robinson 
 Crusoe." 
 
 She was looking up at him now through her tears, 
 and, as he finished, she said bravely, with a faint smile 
 upon her face : 
 
 " Forgive me. This has made a coward of me, and 
 my mind has been so confused, I can hardly understand 
 it all, even now. I do trust you, Mr. Mr. " 
 
 " Crusoe," he said, smiling. " And now that you're 
 all right I'm going to leave you for a short time. It 
 has stopped raining, and there must be a little light in 
 the east. I'm going down to the shore to see if I can 
 find any trace of your friends." 
 
 "Oh, do you think that any of them were saved?" 
 she cried, looking up at him appealingly. 
 
 " I'm afraid not," he replied, gravely shaking his 
 head, 
 
 Sitting down, he pulled on, with difficulty, the wet 
 and soggy boots. The exertion gave him a twinge of 
 pain, and he realized how lame and bruised he was 
 from his terrible battle with the storm. Taking the 
 oil-skin coat and hat from the hook, he put them on, 
 and started for the door. 
 
 " Don't raise any false hopes, and don't worry if I 
 am gone for some time," said he. " I'll make a thor- 
 ough search."
 
 THE STAKE 47 
 
 She was lying with her face resting upon her hand 
 on the pillow, her eyes following his every movement. 
 
 " You are very tired, aren't you? " she said. 
 
 " A trifle lame, perhaps, but that will wear off in a 
 few minutes. I was pretty badly bumped and thumped 
 last night, and the cold made me a little stiff. Good-by ! 
 Look for me in half an hour." 
 
 Outside, the rain had ceased entirely, but the gale 
 continued as strong as ever. In the faint light of the 
 coming dawn, Weston could see the mountainous waves 
 which rolled about his island, and dashed against cliff 
 and rock, sending great jets of spray high into the air. 
 
 Cautiously he made his way down the rocky slope 
 to the spot where he had stood in the darkness, and 
 witnessed the tragedy of the night. In the gray light 
 of approaching day, he could see the lashing of the 
 waters, as they beat upon the rocks, and realized, more 
 than ever, the utter hopelessness of escape for any- 
 thing which came within their grasp. Upon the reef 
 where the steamer had struck, not one vestige of her 
 was to be seen. Amidst the raging waters, not an atom 
 of her wreckage was visible. He crept among the 
 rocks along the shore, venturing out as far as he dared, 
 searching everywhere for some tangible evidence of 
 what he had seen, as in a dream, only a few hours be- 
 fore. But along the shore and out upon the waters, 
 there was nothing. 
 
 As he climbed the hill once more, he thought of the 
 girl's singular reticence and fear. Poor thing! It was 
 no wonder that the terrible experience of the night had 
 dazed and frightened her. And then the loneliness of
 
 48 THE STAKE 
 
 her position! No woman to comfort her! A man 
 a stranger her sole companion in this desolate place. 
 Realizing his obligation to protect her and relieve the 
 distress of her mind, he knew that he must treat her 
 with special gentleness and courtesy, if he would win 
 her confidence. He recalled how white her face had 
 been, as she looked up at him out of those big doubting 
 eyes. It was a sweet face, though. 
 
 Just before he reached the cabin, he turned aside and 
 followed the path down to the cove where he had left 
 his boat. The rocks were wet and slippery, and he 
 found it difficult to keep his footing, but at last he came 
 to the bottom of the steps, and stood upon the spot 
 where he had first landed. To his surprise, the dory 
 was lying bottom up, her stern resting on the logs, while 
 her bow still hung by the painter to the iron ring where 
 he had fastened it. Her broken mast floated not far 
 away, and, to his consternation, he saw that one side of 
 the boat was badly crushed. Even in this protected 
 spot, the waves came tumbling in with a surging wash 
 which tossed the logs up and down, and pounded them 
 against the rocks. The constant thumping of the boat 
 had damaged her so badly that she would probably 
 have sunk where she lay, had she not, by chance, been 
 tossed upon the logs. From where he stood, it was 
 impossible to see the full extent of the injury, but, 
 clearly enough, the boat would never float until she had 
 been repaired. He tried to cross the logs to where she 
 lay, but the danger was too great, and he gave it up. 
 Even if he were able to repair her, he knew it would 
 be folly to venture to sea, except in the most favorable
 
 THE STAKE 49 
 
 weather, and as for sailing her back to Atherton's Cove, 
 that was out of the question. There was nothing to do 
 but wait until some one came for him. Ordinarily, it 
 would not matter, but the girl He climbed the hill 
 again, and walked slowly towards the house. 
 
 " What a predicament ! " he muttered. " How can 
 I tell her?" 
 
 He knocked at the door, opened it, and stopped on 
 the threshold in surprise. She was standing near the 
 table, and turned to meet him. 
 
 " Please do not laugh at me, Mr. Mr. Crusoe. 
 Your home doesn't furnish an attractive variety of gar- 
 ments for ladies' use. There was no other way. My 
 clothes had to be dried." 
 
 She laughed nervously, as though not far from cry- 
 ing. With the red table spread, the counterpane, and 
 such other material as she could find, she had arranged 
 a nondescript attire, which would indeed have pro- 
 voked a laugh, had it not been for the pitiful necessity 
 which required it. But even in the poverty of her 
 wardrobe, she had found, in some unaccountable way, 
 a ribbon with which to tie back her hair, which hung 
 in two long braids over her shoulders. And through 
 her embarrassment, her eyes looked bravely into his, 
 and challenged the chivalry of his manhood. 
 
 Removing his hat, he bowed gallantly, and said: 
 
 " In this little kingdom, you are the first lady. In 
 matters of fashion and etiquette, you are supreme."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE plaintive beauty of the face before him, and 
 the sense of the girl's dependence upon him, 
 aroused in Dick Weston such a feeling of sympathy, 
 that he hardly knew how to express it. She seemed so 
 young, so gentle, and so forlorn, he hesitated to tell 
 her of the fruitlessness of his search. Under his steady 
 gaze, a faint flush came to her cheek, and then paled 
 again as she said: 
 
 " You found no one no sign of my friends ? " 
 
 He shook his head sadly. 
 
 " And there is nothing more you can do ? " 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 She went to the window, rested her head upon her 
 arm, and looked out over the desolate prospect. Wes- 
 ton saw that she was weeping, and forebore to speak 
 to her. Removing his boots and outer coat, he went 
 to the stove, stirred up the fire, and prepared to cook 
 more coffee. To his surprise, the girl came to his side 
 and said: 
 
 " Let me help you. I know you are tired. If you 
 will rest awhile I'll get breakfast ready." 
 
 Her voice was low but steady, and when she ob- 
 served his hesitation, she added: 
 
 " I am perfectly well and strong now." 
 
 Yielding to her request, he sat down, and was sur-
 
 THE STAKE 51 
 
 prised to find how tired he was. It seemed as though 
 every bone in his body ached. The warmth of the fire, 
 and his fatigue, made him drowsy, and he watched the 
 girl as through a haze, while she busied herself about 
 the room. Not once did she look towards him, and he, 
 overcome by the strain through which he had passed, 
 was silent. Her slender, white hands placed dishes on 
 the table, and arranged the food from the basket. In 
 spite of her ludicrous costume, she bore herself with 
 a dignity which won Weston's admiration, as he wit- 
 nessed her brave effort to overcome the depression of 
 her grief. At last she turned to him. 
 
 " Breakfast is served, Mr. Crusoe," she said, with a 
 faint smile. " Will you come to the table ? " 
 
 As Weston stretched his stiffened limbs and struggled 
 to his feet, he suddenly remembered the condition of 
 the boat. 
 
 " What if we should be marooned on the island for 
 days ! " he thought. " What would we do for food? " 
 
 Fortunately there was plenty of water in the barrels 
 outside the door, but, alas, there was nothing to eat 
 except the small supply of provisions he had brought 
 in his basket. The grave look in his face seemed to 
 give the girl a premonition of some new peril. 
 
 "What is it?" she whispered. 
 
 " Nothing," he replied, evasively, as he went to the 
 table and sat down. 
 
 She remained standing. 
 
 " Will you please tell me ? " she said. 
 
 "What shall I tell you?" 
 
 "Tell me what's the matter."
 
 52 THE STAKE 
 
 Then, as he still hesitated, she exclaimed impatiently : 
 
 " Don't treat me like a child. After what I have 
 been through, nothing else can frighten me. You asked 
 me to trust you. Won't you trust me ? " 
 
 " The boat is so badly damaged, we can't use it." 
 
 "The boat? I do not understand. What boat?" 
 
 " My boat. Our only means of getting to shore, 
 unless some one comes for us." 
 
 " But some one will come?" she asked, breathlessly, 
 sitting down at the table, and looking intently into his 
 face. 
 
 "Yes, but" 
 
 " Well, what is it you fear? " 
 
 " I'll tell you," he said, raising his head with a new 
 determination. " You are brave and sensible, and will 
 not give way to unreasonable fear. This storm may 
 last several days. No one will dare venture out from 
 the shore. As soon as they can do so, I am sure my 
 friends will come for me, but, in the meantime, we 
 must remain here, and and, this is all the food we 
 have." 
 
 He looked dubiously at the few slices of bread, the 
 remains of the chicken, a piece of pie, a couple of 
 doughnuts, some pickles, and a bit of cheese. 
 
 " Isn't it possible for any one to come for us to-day? " 
 asked the girl anxiously. 
 
 " No, I am quite sure we shall have to stay until 
 to-morrow, at least. And by to-morrow, we shall have 
 nothing left to eat." 
 
 " Oh, we shall not starve," said she nervously. " I 
 am not worried about that. But I wish there were
 
 THE STAKE 53 
 
 some way to get to shore. I can't stay here it's very 
 inconvenient I mean oh, dear, can't you think of 
 any way ? " 
 
 He shook his head helplessly. 
 
 " If I knew of any chance of escape, I wouldn't have 
 given you this worry. The best I can do is to hoist a 
 signal in the hope of attracting some passing boat, al- 
 though it's doubtful that any one would venture out in 
 such a gale. I am very sorry." 
 
 She studied his face for a moment, and then with a 
 smile, she said: 
 
 " We'll make the best of it. It is a strange predica- 
 ment. One reads of such things in novels, but I never 
 thought it would happen to me. What would my friends 
 think if they could see me now? My friends! Oh, I 
 forgot." 
 
 She turned away to hide her tears, and Weston, op- 
 pressed by a sense of his helplessness, took down the 
 spyglass and went out of the door. 
 
 Standing on the highest point of the island, he care- 
 fully searched the sea for some sign of a steamer or 
 craft of any kind. Everywhere was a broad expanse 
 of raging, tossing waters, in which he knew no small 
 boat could live. Yet, for half an hour he stood there, 
 hoping for a sight of something. At last he took the 
 spyglass from his eye, and dropped his arm wearily. 
 It was useless to think of any relief while the gale con- 
 tinued. 
 
 " Have you discovered anything ? " said a voice at his 
 side. 
 
 He turned with a start.
 
 54 THE STAKE 
 
 " No," he replied reluctantly. " Nothing yet." 
 
 Then as he observed the look of disappointment in 
 her face, he added: 
 
 " You mustn't be discouraged though. Some one is 
 sure to come for us. Ah ! I see you have changed the 
 fashion again." 
 
 " Yes," she said, with a pitiful attempt to appear 
 cheerful. " Wash-day is over. I am able to lay aside 
 my disguise." 
 
 In her restored garments, although they still showed 
 the effects of last night's drenching, she presented an 
 entirely different appearance. With frank admiration, 
 Weston observed her graceful figure and the unaffected 
 beauty of her face, to which the sea breeze had brought 
 a faint color. Her full round neck rose from the open 
 collar of her blouse, and gave her head a certain poise 
 of dignity. Her dark hair was drawn back in a knot, 
 and over her forehead the wind blew a few scattering 
 strands. 
 
 " Show me where we were wrecked," she said, as he 
 watched her. 
 
 " Down there among those rocks where the waves 
 dash highest. I can't point out the exact spot where 
 the steamer struck. It was so dark, I could only see in 
 the flashes of lightning. A little to the right of the 
 reef and nearer in shore, beside that sharp rock, is 
 where the lifeboat was destroyed, and where you were 
 thrown into the water." 
 
 He saw that she was trembling and overcome by the 
 memory of that awful time, and the terrible fate of her 
 friends.
 
 THE STAKE ' 55 
 
 " Come," he said gently. " Let's return to the house. 
 The air is damp and chilly, and the sight is de- 
 pressing." 
 
 " No, I prefer to stay here," she replied. 
 
 " Then I'll go for a wrap. You must have some pro- 
 tection from this wind." 
 
 He went to the house, and soon returned with the 
 table spread, which he laid across her shoulders. 
 
 " It was the only thing I could find," said he. 
 
 " Thank you. It was thoughtful of you. I believe 
 I was a little chilly. Where did you find me last night ? " 
 
 " Just beyond that large bowlder," he replied, pointing 
 out the spot. 
 
 " But that is in the water. Was I thrown against 
 it?" 
 
 " Yes that is to say " 
 
 " I can't understand how I escaped without any in- 
 jury. See how the waves dash against the rock. And 
 yet, I wasn't even bruised." 
 
 " No. For the simple reason that I caught you. I 
 was standing there, just outside the rock, holding my 
 lantern above my head, hoping to guide your boat to 
 the shore. Then it capsized, and the next moment a 
 great wave hurled you into my arms. You see, it was 
 a very simple matter." 
 
 " But it was a brave thing for you to do. Last night, 
 when I first awoke from my stupor, I was frightened 
 and confused. You must have thought me very un- 
 gracious. It was childish of me. I should have trusted 
 you at once. Forgive my rudeness." 
 
 She was blushing charmingly now, and Weston, glad
 
 56 THE STAKE 
 
 to win her attention away from the scene of the disas- 
 ter, said cheerfully: 
 
 " I am glad to be admitted to your favor. You really 
 were a little doubtful about me, at first, weren't you? 
 But I don't blame you. My appearance was not very 
 reassuring. Don't you want to walk across to the other 
 side of the island, where we can get a better view of 
 the mainland ? " 
 
 " Thank you," she said. " Do you think some one 
 will come for us ? '.' 
 
 "I I hope so," he replied soberly. " Not for 
 awhile though. Not in this storm." 
 
 Battling with the wind, they clambered among the 
 rocks, now and then stopping to recover breath, or to 
 look out over the deserted stretch of waters. When a 
 sudden burst of the gale threatened to throw her from 
 her feet, she did not hesitate to take his proffered arm, 
 and to steady herself against his side. Satisfied that 
 he had, at last, won her confidence, Weston tried to di- 
 vert her thoughts from her grief and anxiety. 
 
 " There lies the coast over there," he said, pointing 
 to the west. " But the waves are so high you can 
 hardly see it. When I left there yesterday morning, 
 the sea was quite calm, and the breeze just strong enough 
 to bring me over. ' Old Dad,' the boatman, was right. 
 He said he smelt a change in the weather." 
 
 " He will be worried about you, won't he? " 
 
 "Who? Dad? Not he. Dad knows that I am on 
 the island, and wouldn't venture out in such a storm. 
 Besides, I told him I might stay all night." 
 
 " Then you don't live here?"
 
 THE STAKE si 
 
 " Live here ? " laughed Weston. " No, indeed. 
 What put that idea into your head ? " 
 
 " I thought perhaps you were a lighthouse tender, 
 or a fisherman, or or just Mr. Crusoe." 
 
 " No, thank heaven ! I live on shore, and not in this 
 desolate place, although strange to say, it's one of the 
 few spots of earth which I can call my own." 
 
 " What is the name of the town? " she asked, looking 
 out over the sea towards the shore. 
 
 " Atherton's Cove," he replied. 
 
 " Is it a pleasant place to live in ? " 
 
 " Yes. A fishing village most of the year, and a sum- 
 mer resort during the hot season." 
 
 " I'm sorry to have my illusion of a modern Robinson 
 Crusoe dispelled. I had been building up quite a ro- 
 mantic story of your life in this wild spot." 
 
 " Will you tell me the plot ? " he asked, smiling down 
 into her upturned face. 
 
 " No," she replied, " because it's all changed now ; 
 Mr. Crusoe proves to be only a fancy, and you are 
 Mr. " 
 
 She paused and waited for him to fill in the name. 
 
 " Weston Dick Weston." 
 
 " Dick Weston," she repeated slowly. Then raising 
 her head, and looking up to him, she added: 
 
 " I hope you will meet my father and mother, some- 
 time, Mr. Weston. They will want to thank you for 
 your kindness to me." 
 
 " You mustn't magnify my service. I risked nothing. 
 I was simply the shelter into which you were cast." 
 
 She shook her head slowly.
 
 58 THE STAKE 
 
 " You underrate your courage." 
 
 " It would be a fine thing to be a hero," he said with 
 a laugh, " but I'm afraid I couldn't qualify. And now 
 that I have told you my name, may I know yours? " 
 
 " I am Louise Ellsworth." 
 
 The sound of her own name seemed to remind her 
 again of her strange and lonely position and the loss of 
 her friends. A shadow came over her face, she turned 
 away and went slowly towards the house. Weston fol- 
 lowed close beside her, uncertain of her mood. 
 
 " Won't you go inside and rest now ? " he asked, as 
 they came to the door. " You haven't overcome the 
 strain of last night. It was a terrible tax upon your 
 strength." 
 
 " Being a woman, I suppose I must plead guilty. It's 
 a pity, Mr. Weston, that you have burdened yourself 
 with such a helpless creature as I am," she said, as she 
 went into the house. 
 
 For some time Weston sat outside on the bench, smok- 
 ing his pipe, and trying to think of some way of escape ; 
 some means of getting food; some plan to lighten the 
 burden of grief of this girl, for whose comfort and 
 safety he had become responsible. He knew that the 
 gale might continue for days, and that, during that time, 
 no one would venture out from Atherton's Cove, while 
 any large vessels out at sea, would give Roger's Island 
 a wide berth. A signal flag by day, or a fire by night, 
 would therefore be of little use, even if he could find 
 a pole for the one, or fuel for the other. There was 
 nothing to do but to wait, unless yes, there was the 
 dory. Perhaps he could patch it up. But even then
 
 THE STAKE 59 
 
 he would not dare to take it out in such weather. Still 
 it was the only chance left, and he determined to look 
 at the boat once more, and find out just what damage 
 had been done. 
 
 It lay just as he had found it earlier in the morning, 
 and, in spite of the danger, he ventured out upon the 
 slippery logs, balancing himself with difficulty, as they 
 rose and fell with the surge of the sea, which every few 
 moments burst into the little cove with a roar, as if its 
 fury would destroy even this sheltered spot. When he 
 reached the dory, and had climbed upon it, he found that 
 one side was badly smashed, but, below the water line, 
 the oak planking had withstood the shock, and, although 
 badly crushed, was not actually torn away. As he 
 leaned over the farther side to examine it closely, a 
 fierce wave struck the logs, and, in the lurch which fol- 
 lowed, Weston felt himself slipping into the water. His 
 struggles to regain his balance only made matters worse. 
 Before he fully realized his danger, he was pitched head- 
 long overboard. Good swimmer as he was, he found 
 it no easy task to withstand the force of the waves 
 which dashed over his head as he rose to the surface, 
 but, fortunately, he was only a few feet from the logs, 
 and, exerting his full strength, he managed to reach 
 them, and climbed to safety, where he lay, stretched at 
 full length, panting from his exertions, and well-nigh 
 exhausted. 
 
 Recovering himself, he quickly decided that it was 
 useless to attempt to repair the boat until the sea went 
 down, so he made it fast, and, crawling over the logs, 
 to the shore, he set out to return to the cabin. But it
 
 60 THE STAKE 
 
 was no easy task to climb the steep path. His clothes 
 were heavy and dripping at every step, and the force 
 of the wind held him back. When at last he reached the 
 top of the cliff, he found Miss Ellsworth standing only 
 a short distance from him, looking about her anxiously 
 in all directions. As she caught sight of him, she cried 
 out: 
 
 " Where have you been ? You disappeared so com- 
 pletely, I was afraid you had left me." 
 
 " There's no danger of that," he laughed. 
 
 " The thought of being left here alone gave me the 
 horrors," she exclaimed. " Oh, dear ! What a helpless 
 creature a woman is, in such a predicament as this. 
 Yet, she always thinks herself equal to any emergency. 
 Are you going back to the house ? It must be time for 
 dinner." 
 
 As they started along the path, she noticed that his 
 clothes were drenched. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Weston ! " she cried. " What has hap- 
 pened ? Your clothes are soaking wet." 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders, and made a wry grimace. 
 
 " I have just taken an unexpected bath." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she asked, looking at him 
 anxiously. 
 
 "Just took a header from the boat that's all." 
 
 "The boat?" 
 
 " Yes my dory. I was trying to find out how badly 
 it was smashed. As luck would have it, I fell into the 
 water." 
 
 She stood for a moment, looking intently at him. 
 
 " You were in danger ? " she asked.
 
 THE STAKE 61 
 
 " Oh, no." 
 
 " You might have been drowned." 
 
 " Indeed, there was little danger of that," he replied. 
 
 " But you might have been drowned," she said. " Oh, 
 this horrible ocean ! I shall never want to see it again, 
 if I ever reach shore. But really, Mr. Weston, you 
 mustn't go about in these wet clothes. If you'll go to 
 the house and change them, I'll wait here until you 
 come back." 
 
 " That's good advice, but, unfortunately, I've no 
 change with me. You see " 
 
 " There are some clothes in the chest near the win- 
 dow," she said. " I saw them there this morning." 
 
 " They must be some of my uncle's," he replied. " I'll 
 go and see." 
 
 She watched him curiously as he went towards the 
 house, but, when he turned at the door to look back at 
 her, she was gazing intently seaward.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 IT was a strange phase of the strange companionship 
 of these two persons met together for the first time, 
 that to neither of them came any thought of a past life 
 in connection with the other. To Weston, the girl was 
 a new-born creature, sprung Venus-like from the sea. 
 In that period of time before she came to him, there 
 might have been for her another existence, and other 
 surroundings ; but all that was a sealed book into which 
 he had no desire to look. And she, having found this 
 remarkable refuge from the peril through which she had 
 passed, associated the man with the place. To her, he 
 was an integral part of the whole surroundings. The 
 great, isolated rock, the lonely cabin, the man, all 
 seemed combined by fate to rescue and preserve her. 
 His watchful attention to her unspoken wishes, his ef- 
 forts to cheer her, his earnest desire to remove her fears 
 and to strengthen her confidence in him, all of these 
 things added to her interest in him, and she found herself 
 accepting as a friend and companion, this man, who, 
 only yesterday, was a stranger to her. 
 
 By the end of their second meal together, there had 
 come to each a sense of the intimacy of their fellowship. 
 Over Weston it cast a charm which awakened romantic 
 dreams and suggested possibilities which startled him. 
 He had a vague feeling that perhaps fate had, in some
 
 THE STAKE 63 
 
 way, linked their lives together. The thought was al- 
 luring. Sitting there alone with her, the spell of her 
 presence filled his mind with fancies, which his better 
 sense told him were foolish. With an effort, he tried 
 to shake them off, and, looking across the table at her, 
 said lightly : 
 
 " What a change from yesterday. Then I sat here 
 alone, and little thought I should be here to-day, with 
 you as my guest." 
 
 " And you little thought that I would be appropriating 
 your provisions at the expense of your appetite," she 
 replied, with a comical expression of sympathy. 
 
 " Indeed, I'm not hungry," said he, flushing guiltily. 
 
 She shook her head and smiled. 
 
 " Hereafter we must divide in equal portions, as long 
 as the food lasts. But I hope this is not a case of 
 starvation. Surely some one will come to-morrow." 
 
 He looked doubtfully out of the window. 
 
 "I'm afraid that is to say I hope so." 
 
 There was a tone of uneasiness in his answer which 
 was echoed by a shrill wail, as the wind swept around 
 the little house. The girl looked anxiously into his 
 face. 
 
 " Is the storm growing worse ? " she asked, nervously. 
 
 " The wind is rising again." 
 
 " And that means we must stay here another day ? " 
 
 " No one will venture out in this kind of sea." 
 
 "And you can think of no way to get ashore?" 
 
 The pain and disappointment in her voice hurt him. 
 He wanted to allay her anxiety, but what could he say ? 
 For a few minutes both were silent, and then Weston
 
 64 THE STAKE 
 
 rose and began searching through the cabin. The girl 
 raised her head and watched him. curiously, until, as he 
 started for the door, she said : 
 
 " Where are you going? " 
 
 " Down to the boat. I must try to patch it up." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " So that I can use it. If no one comes to-morrow 
 morning, perhaps I could work my way in and get help." 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! " she cried, springing to her feet. 
 " Please don't try that. You would be drowned in this 
 horrible sea, and I should be the cause of it. I can't let 
 you go." 
 
 Then, realizing that, in her anxiety, she had spoken 
 too freely, she exclaimed with a nervous laugh : 
 
 " If you desert me, Mr. Weston, I'm afraid the next 
 visitor to this lonely spot would find only my bleaching 
 bones. It would serve me right, though, for complaining 
 as I did." 
 
 " I had no thought of deserting you. You know I 
 wouldn't do that." 
 
 " Well, don't try to frighten me again. I'm such a 
 coward, I would imagine all kinds of dangers if I were 
 left alone here." 
 
 Weston hesitated a moment 
 
 " Very well," he said. " I'll do as you say. But I 
 must try to fix the boat. It will be just as well to have 
 it ready in case we need it." 
 
 He turned towards the door, but paused again when 
 she said plaintively : 
 
 "Oh, must you?" 
 
 " Why? Surely there's no danger in doing that."
 
 THE STAKE 65 
 
 " You tried it this morning, and were nearly drowned." 
 
 He smiled. It flattered him to feel that she was anx- 
 ious for his safety. 
 
 " I'll be more careful this time." 
 
 " May I go with you? " she asked, blushing again at 
 her temerity. 
 
 " It will be safer for you here. The wind is high, the 
 rocks are slippery, and you would be drenched with 
 spray. I would rather have you stay here." 
 
 His words were decisive, and sounded like a com- 
 mand. She knew that he was right ; that it would add 
 to his difficulty if she went; but it piqued her that he 
 should refuse her request, and she showed her disap- 
 pointment. 
 
 " Of course, if I should be in your way, " she be- 
 gan, but, without heeding her words, he was already out 
 of the house, and on his way down to the boat. 
 
 With the limited materials which he had been able 
 to find, and no tools except a knife and a hatchet, he set 
 to work to repair the damage. Where it was possible to 
 do so, he forced the planks back into place, using pieces 
 of sailcloth to caulk the seams and to cover the larger 
 openings, over which he also fastened small strips of 
 wood torn from the inside fittings of the boat. When he 
 had exhausted his resources, and could think of nothing 
 more which he could do, he straightened himself, and 
 dubiously surveyed the result of his carpentering. The 
 boat could hardly be called seaworthy, but at least it 
 would float and might be safe enough to carry them 
 ashore. 
 
 It was already growing dark as he reached the cabin.
 
 66 THE STAKE 
 
 When he entered, he found Miss Ellsworth standing by 
 the table, lighting the lamp. 
 
 " This looks cozy," he said. " But it's fierce, outside/' 
 
 "Is it storming hard?" she asked, without turning 
 her head towards him. 
 
 " The wind is rising to a gale, but it's hot raining very 
 hard." 
 
 With the coming of the night, the embarrassment of 
 their situation became more apparent, and Weston found 
 his companion silent and unresponsive. 
 
 " Shall I read aloud ? " he asked, taking a book from 
 the shelf. " We've a choice of three subjects : * Salad 
 for the Solitary,' * Thaddeus of Warsaw,' and * John 
 Halifax.' Which shall it be? " 
 
 " Thank you," she replied. " My head aches, and 
 I'm not in the mood for reading." There were tears in 
 her eyes, and a plaintive tone in her voice. 
 
 " You've been through a terrible ordeal," he said, 
 gently. " No woman could have endured it more 
 bravely than you have. I know you're very tired, so I 
 want you to lie down on the cot and go to sleep. I'm 
 going to take one of the comforters, and stretch out in 
 the rocker. I believe I could sleep twelve hours without 
 waking." 
 
 " I am very tired," was her only reply, as she went to 
 the bed and lay down. 
 
 Weston sat for half an hour, idly turning the leaves of 
 a book, but the pages conveyed nothing to his mind, 
 which was busied with other thoughts, chief among 
 which was the thought of the girl whose brief compan- 
 ionship had aroused such a new interest in his life.
 
 THE STAKE 67 
 
 And slie, studying his face through her half -closed 
 eyes, gradually overcame her fear, and knew instinctively 
 that she was safe in his care. 
 
 The rain beat upon the roof, and the wind howled 
 around the corners. There was a chill in the air. Wes- 
 ton went to the stove and found that the fire was out. 
 Of the supply of wood, only a few sticks remained, and 
 these he thought best to save for the morning. The girl 
 was sleeping peacefully, and he stopped for a moment 
 to look upon the soft beauty of her face, resting con- 
 tentedly upon her hand. Then, with a guilty feeling that 
 he was committing a sacrilege, he turned away, and, 
 taking one of the comforters, spread it gently over her. 1 
 Wrapped in the other quilt, he tipped back in the rocker, 
 put his feet on another chair, and, having arranged him- 
 self in the most comfortable manner possible, he turned 
 down the lamp and was soon asleep. 
 
 In spite of his cramped position, he slept soundly. 
 The strenuous exertions of the past day, without rest, 
 and without sufficient food, had produced an exhaustion 
 which made him insensible to discomfort, so that it was 
 not until morning that he again opened his eyes. 
 
 He was greeted by a blaze of sunlight pouring in at 
 the window. Thoroughly awake, he looked at his watch, 
 and discovered that it was after five o'clock, but when 
 he rose he found, to his surprise, that he was alone in 
 the cabin ; his companion was gone. 
 
 For a moment he wondered if it had all been a dream 
 the storm, the wreck, the rescue of the girl and 
 then his doubts were dispelled. The door opened softly, 
 and she stood before him, brilliant in the bright light of
 
 68 THE STAKE 
 
 the sun, her cheeks glowing from the fresh morning air, 
 and with a reassuring smile, she greeted him. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Weston ! I hope I didn't disturb 
 you. I've been enjoying my first experience of sunrise. 
 Oh, it's a glorious day ! The wind has gone down, and, 
 best of all, I've seen a sail." 
 
 " That's good news," replied Weston enthusiastically. 
 " Come, and show it to me." 
 
 As they went out together, he added : 
 
 " To think that I should oversleep, and let you get 
 ahead of me in this way ! " 
 
 " It's the first time on record that I ever got ahead 
 of any one by early rising," she replied with a laugh. 
 " See, there is the sail I spoke of." 
 
 " But that's not from Atherton's, I'm sorry to say," 
 exclaimed Weston, looking in the direction towards 
 which she was pointing. 
 
 " Can't we signal to them ? " 
 
 " Not unless they come nearer. I don't understand 
 how they come to be where they are. The sea is still 
 too high to venture out from the shore. They must 
 have found some anchorage among the islands, or have 
 weathered the storm. I'm afraid they're not likely to 
 come here." 
 
 There was a shade of disappointment in her voice as 
 she said : 
 
 " So all my hopes were vain." 
 
 Weston stood watching the distant vessel, as she 
 forced her way through the heavy seas. 
 
 " My friends at Atherton's will not be able to come 
 out of the harbor until late in the day, and I'm afraid
 
 THE STAKE 69 
 
 they couldn't get here before night. You see they may 
 expect me to come back in the dory, without realizing 
 that my boat is damaged." 
 
 " Were you able to fix the boat ? " 
 
 " Yes, after a fashion." 
 
 "Then we can get to shore sometime to-day, can't 
 we?" 
 
 " I'm afraid to risk it in this sea. The only thing for 
 us to do, is to wait until some one comes for us, or 
 else " 
 
 He paused, and watched intently the vessel which, on 
 a new tack, seemed to be coming nearer the island. 
 
 " Or else " repeated the girl, her eyes fixed on his 
 face, waiting for him to complete the sentence. " Is 
 there any other way of escape ? " 
 
 " I was thinking," he said, with some hesitation in his 
 words, " I was thinking that we might try that is 
 if I could rig up a mast we might get out into the 
 course of that schooner. But it's a dangerous experi- 
 ment, and I don't like to try it." 
 
 " Is it because of me that you are afraid? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes, I might take the chance, myself, but " 
 
 " It's too dangerous for me, you mean ? But you've 
 no objections if I take the risk upon my own shoul- 
 ders?" 
 
 " If we wait patiently," he said, disregarding her 
 question, " some one is sure to come for us either this 
 afternoon, or at farthest, to-morrow morning." 
 
 " But how can a woman be patient under such cir- 
 cumstances? It's awfully inconvenient, to say the least. 
 I simply can't stay here, with only these clothes."
 
 70 THE STAKE 
 
 " See ! " she cried. " The vessel is certainly coming 
 nearer." 
 
 " She is beating her way out to sea," said Weston. 
 
 " Isn't it possible to signal to her ? " the girl queried 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Yes, but I doubt if they would risk running in here. 
 They might send a boat, but " 
 
 "The surest way is for us to go out to them, isn't 
 it ? " she interrupted. 
 
 "Yes, but- 
 
 " Then let's try it. I can stand anything but this 
 inaction. Please don't shake your head. I know there 
 is danger, but I'm ready to take the risk. You won't be 
 outdone in courage by a woman, will you ? " she asked 
 impetuously. 
 
 He smiled at her eagerness, and almost reckless de- 
 termination. 
 
 " It will take the schooner an hour against this wind, 
 to come abreast of us," said he. " We have plenty 
 of time to think it over. Let's see if we can find 
 something to eat." 
 
 He turned towards the house, and she walked in 
 silence at his side. His stubbornness annoyed her. 
 He seemed absolutely indifferent to her wishes. 
 Woman-like, she planned her next attack, determined 
 to win his consent. 
 
 It took but a few minutes to breakfast upon a few 
 remaining scraps of food, she, moody and absent- 
 minded, he, troubled and uncertain as to what he should 
 do. He knew that she was determined to persuade 
 him to take her in the dory, and make the attempt to
 
 THE STAKE 71 
 
 reach the schooner, but he was not prepared for the 
 method by which she proceeded to enforce her wishes. 
 
 " Mr. Weston," she said frigidly. " Must I ask you 
 again to take the only means in your power to put me 
 ashore, so that I can get home? If you refuse, I can 
 only think that you do not wish to please me; that 
 you wish to keep me here, knowing that I must submit 
 because I am at your mercy. I am grateful to you 
 for rescuing me ; don't turn my gratitude into a feeling 
 of suspicion and aversion. It's a trying and em- 
 barrassing situation for a lady to be in. Surely you 
 recognize that, and will do what you can to relieve 
 me." 
 
 She paused, with a little gasp. She had said more 
 than she had intended. The look in her companion's 
 face warned her that her words had pained and sur- 
 prised him. Without replying to her outburst, he 
 began moving about the room, putting things in order, 
 while she watched him in silence. At last he took 
 the oil-skin coat from its hook and, throwing it over 
 his arm, he said quietly : 
 
 " Come, we will go now." 
 
 " Are you going out in the boat ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I suppose you think I am foolish to ask this," she 
 inquired, waveringly. 
 
 " Not at all," he replied. " I'm only sorry that I 
 couldn't have made it pleasanter for you here." 
 
 "Is it really so very dangerous to go out in the 
 boat?" 
 
 " There is danger," he said gravely. " But I be-
 
 72 THE STAKE 
 
 lieve I can manage it. If we could be sure of the boat 
 from Atherton's some time to-day, I would rather 
 have waited; but they may not venture out until to- 
 morrow. Come, we must not delay any longer."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE coasting schooner, Mary Boyle, fought her 
 way through strange waters, beating against a 
 head wind, and slowly working out to sea, to regain 
 the course from which she had been driven by a gale 
 of the past two days. 
 
 Her master, Captain Jonas Appleby, a sailor of 
 thirty years' experience, had been heard to say that, 
 with plenty of water under his keel, he cared not for 
 wind or wave, but that a lee shore and a sunken reef 
 gave him as much uneasiness as riding on a railroad 
 train. Bound for Boston with a cargo of lumber, 
 he had been caught in the very worst of the storm, 
 and, at dawn, had found himself in among the islands 
 and rocks, only a mile off shore. That he had es- 
 caped shipwreck, was nothing short of a miracle. All 
 that day and the following night he had tried to get 
 out into the open water, working his way cautiously 
 with shortened sail, and a sharp lookout. 
 
 On this second morning after a sleepless night, he 
 stood on his deck, looking at the sea and the sky, with 
 an expression of relief on his weather-beaten face. 
 
 "Guess we're through th' wust of it, Bill," he 
 shouted to his mate, standing at his side. " We must 
 ha' druv in about fifteen mile. Was ye ever in here 
 afore, Bill?"
 
 74 THE STAKE 
 
 "No, sir!" was the response, in gruff, throaty 
 tones. 
 
 "Nor I neither. Head 'er off a couple o' p'ints, 
 Pete. Say, Bill! What's that island yonder?" 
 
 " Donno, sir." 
 
 " We must ha' blowed right through here, the other 
 night, Bill." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "That must ha' been where we heard th' breakers 
 off on th' port quarter, when that steamer was a-whis- 
 tlin'." 
 
 " Like's not, sir." 
 
 " Waal, I've been sailin' fer nigh thirty year, an' I 
 say this 'ere was th' tightest squeak I ever hed, by 
 Godfrey. Dark's a Guinea nigger, an' th' wind 
 a-blowin' forty knots . How in Sam Hill we ever 
 skinned through beats me. What's that ye say, 
 Mose ? " he bawled in the teeth of the wind. 
 
 "Boat adrift off to sta'b'rd," shouted the lookout. 
 
 The captain raised his glass, and searched the roll- 
 ing, tumbling waters. 
 
 "He's right, Bill," he said. "They is a boat out 
 there, sure's yer alive. An' a couple o' fellers in her. 
 Waal, what d'ye think o' that? Take a look, Bill." ' 
 
 He handed the glass to his companion, who squirted 
 a stream of tobacco juice to leeward, wiped his mouth 
 with the back of his hand, as if about to take a drink, 
 and then carefully adjusted the glass to his eye. 
 
 "Waal, what d'ye make of it?" said the captain, 
 after a silent inspection on the part of the mate. 
 
 " She's adrift."
 
 THE STAKE 75 
 
 " O' course she's adrift ; but what's she doin' out 
 there?" 
 
 " Nothirr ! " 
 
 " Which way's she makin' ? " 
 
 " She's driftin'." 
 
 " Say, Bill, you're bright Gi' me th' glass." 
 
 He took another long look. 
 
 " Them fellers is in trouble. One o' 'em's all curled 
 up in the starn sheets, an' th' other's bailin' out. They 
 don't seem to have no mast nor oars. See he's stan'in' 
 up, an' wavin' snnthin'. He wants help. Poor cuss. 
 I don't believe we can git to him fer an hour or more, 
 an' when we do, th' Lord knows how we'll ever git 
 'longside of him." 
 
 " Ther's th' yawl," suggested Bill. 
 
 Captain Jonas removed the glass, and eyed his mate 
 for a moment in silence. 
 
 " Bill Jenkins," said he, " ye don't know much t' 
 speak of, but ye hev ideas. Do ye want t' try fer it 
 on th' nex' tack ? " 
 
 " Jes' 's soon." 
 
 " I s'pose I c'd take th' wheel, an' let ye hev Pete. 
 But I warn ye 'tain't no easy job." 
 
 Bill's sole reply was a grunt, as he went to the 
 yawl and prepared to swing it out over the rail. 
 
 " Lend a hand here, Ned," he shouted to a young 
 sailor. " Me an' you an' Pete's goin' out thar arter 
 them fellers." 
 
 In imminent danger of capsizing, the boat was at last 
 lowered, and with its crew of three, was cast loose at 
 an opportune moment. The schooner heeled over to
 
 76 THE STAKE 
 
 port on a fresli tack, and as she shot away from the 
 yawl, bobbing like a cork on the top of a wave, Captain 
 Jonas shouted : 
 
 " Make straight fer 'em, Bill. They're li'ble to git 
 ketched most any minute." 
 
 Bill's answer was lost in the rush of the wind which 
 still blew with considerable force, and the captain, with 
 a parting wave of his hand, turned his attention to his 
 course. 
 
 Meanwhile, with a long deep stroke, the two seamen 
 pulled in the direction of the castaways, whose craft 
 appeared and disappeared as it rose and fell in the 
 roll of the waves. Young Ned, holding fast to the 
 tiller, peered forward with straining eyes, and from 
 time to time imparted to his companions the condition 
 of the distant boat and the chances of rescue. 
 
 " Say, that feller ain't no fool. He's got 'nough sail 
 t' keep her head up, an' she's ridin' reg'lar." 
 
 " Watch out, ye lubber," cried Bill, as a comber 
 drenched him from head to foot. " Keep yer own head 
 up, an' don't try quarterin' this 'ere sea." 
 
 " Now he's bailin' ag'in," continued Ned, bringing 
 the yawl around. " Gosh, but he got that wave right 
 over his beam. They're gone. No, there they be. 
 Knocked th' feller down, but he's up an' bailin' ag'in. 
 Why in thunder don't the other one steer ? " 
 
 " Here, thar ! Steer, yerself, will ye ! " shouted Bill. 
 " Ye'll hev us swamped in a minute. Yew jes' tend 
 t' yer work, an' keep us head on t' these 'ere waves." 
 
 " It's more than any one man can do, to tend sail, 
 an' steer, an' bail out at th' same time. There they
 
 THE STAKE 77 
 
 go ag'in. Gee, that must ha' finished 'em. It's no 
 use, Mates. They're gone. No, there they be ag'in." 
 
 " Oh, shut yer jaw," said Pete, with an oath. 
 " Prognosticatin' don't do no good." 
 
 And now a faint cry came to them from over the 
 water, and Ned gave an answering shout. 
 
 "Thet's more use'n talkin'," said Bill. "Holler 
 ag'in, an' kind o' hearten 'em up." 
 
 He took a quick glance over his shoulder, and 
 gripped his oar tighter. 
 
 " Let's give her some more hickory, Pete," he said, 
 and the yawl leaped in response to the force of their 
 straining muscles. 
 
 " Help ! Help ! " came a voice from the boat, now 
 only two hundred yards away. 
 
 " Hoi' fast ! We're comin' ! " shouted Bill hoarsely, 
 over his shoulder. " Now, give it to her, Pete." 
 
 A few minutes more and they were within hailing 
 distance. The dory was rolling heavily and seemed 
 half full of water. The man who had been bailing, 
 was now holding the tiller, and trying to bring the boat 
 out of the trough of the sea, meanwhile endeavoring to 
 rouse his companion who seemed insensible. 
 
 " Don't try to run alongside of her, Ned," cried Bill. 
 " Ye'll swamp her, sure. We've got to work in easy." 
 
 " Hurry ! " shouted Weston. " We're sinking ! " 
 
 " All right, Mate ! We'll save ye." 
 
 In spite of their precaution, the two boats crashed 
 together, demolishing the side of the ill-fated dory, 
 which slowly sank; but not before Weston had lifted 
 his companion into the yawl, and thrown himself across
 
 78 THE STAKE 
 
 the gunwale, where he hung, half in the water and 
 half out, until he was dragged to safety by Bill, who 
 coolly remarked, as he caught the stroke : 
 
 " Close call ye had, Mate." 
 
 Then looking at the insensible form lying in the bot- 
 tom of the boat, he asked : 
 
 " What ails yer pardner? " 
 
 " It's a lady," panted Weston, almost exhausted by 
 his struggles. 
 
 " Lady ! ,Ye don't say it's a woman ye hed with 
 ye?" 
 
 " That's wot it is," said Pete, solemnly, while Ned, 
 furtively ejecting a quid of tobacco from his cheek, 
 stared curiously at the girl lying at his feet, closely 
 wrapped in the oil-skin coat. 
 
 "Wot ye doin', Ned?" cried Bill. "Tend t' yer 
 steerin'. We've got t' git around and make fer th' 
 ship. Do ye see her anyw'eres?" 
 
 Meanwhile Weston was bending over the inanimate 
 form of his companion. 
 
 "Miss Ellsworth! Miss Ellsworth!" he cried. 
 " Rouse yourself ! We are saved." 
 
 Her head was on his arm, and her white face turned 
 towards him. 
 
 " Do you understand me ? " he said. " We are 
 saved." 
 
 She smiled faintly, half conscious of his words. 
 
 " I'm glad," she whispered. 
 
 Weston drew the coat close about her, and, holding 
 her in his arms, with her head resting against his 
 shoulder, sat in silence looking out over the sea, try-
 
 THE STAKE 79 
 
 ing to steady his nerves. Indifferent to his own dis- 
 comfort, he was happy in the thought that her life had 
 been saved from peril, which at one time seemed 
 hopeless. More than once in that horrible hour 
 through which they had just passed, had he bitterly 
 cursed the folly which prompted him to venture the 
 life of this helpless girl, in spite of the fact that her 
 insistence had driven him to it. When his improvised 
 mast had gone overboard, carrying the sail with it, 
 and the dory had been thrown into the trough of the 
 sea; when the first great wave had swept over them, 
 leaving them gasping for breath, with their boat half 
 filled with water, his first thought had been for her 
 safety. And she, with the courage of despair and 
 fear, had tried to follow his instructions, clinging to 
 the tiller, while he tried to clear away the wreckage, 
 and bail out the sinking boat. With a single oar he 
 had been able to bring his battered craft before the 
 wind, and hold it there for a moment, only to be swept 
 back again whenever he dropped the oar to resume his 
 bailing. With each successive failure came those ter- 
 rible torrents, as wave after wave struck broadside, 
 and deluged them. Then came the moment when he 
 realized that his companion no longer heard his words, 
 that she was unconscious. Lashing her to one of 
 the thwarts, he rigged up a small spare-sail, which had 
 been saved from the wreck, using the broken oar for 
 a mast. With the aid of this, he managed to keep the 
 dory headed bow on, using every moment between 
 waves to bail out, and persevering with desperate 
 efforts in the forlorn hope of ultimate rescue. When,
 
 80 THE STAKE 
 
 at last, he had caught sight of the approaching yawl, 
 his heart leaped with new courage, and he tried to 
 rouse his companion with assurances of rescue near 
 at hand. With the water gaining on him at each 
 moment, with the dory trembling under each succes- 
 sive blow of the waves, he watched anxiously the ap- 
 proaching boat, calculating the chance of remaining 
 afloat until it should reach them. 
 
 It was like a horrible dream. He shuddered as he 
 thought of it. 
 
 Upon poor Ned, the effect of a lady's presence was 
 so disconcerting that he found it difficult to keep his 
 attention fixed upon his duties, with the result that 
 more than once a quartering wave drenched the oc- 
 cupants of the yawl, and brought forth sundry growls 
 and muttered oaths from Bill and Pete. 
 
 At last the schooner was reached, the difficult task 
 of getting aboard was successfully accomplished, and 
 Weston, still holding Miss Ellsworth in his arms, found 
 himself safely landed on the deck of the Mary Boyle, 
 where he received a hearty welcome from Captain 
 Appleby. 
 
 " Waal, my lad, ye were in a fair way t' Davy 
 Jones' locker. What'n thunder were ye doin* out there 
 in this weather?" 
 
 "It's a long story, Captain," said Weston. "I'll 
 tell you all about it by and by. First, let me attend 
 to this young lady. Where can I take her ? " 
 
 " She's welcome to my cabin. It's th' best we've 
 got. See here, my lad! You're about used up. Let 
 me take th' girl. You follow me."
 
 THE STAKE 81 
 
 Lifting the half-conscious form in his arms, the cap- 
 tain went down the companion-way, Weston following 
 with shaky steps, still anxious for the girl's safety, but 
 dazed by the reaction from his peril and exposure. 
 
 " Ye both need a drop o' sperrits," said Captain 
 Appleby, as he gently laid the girl down upon his 
 bunk. " She'll come to all right, my lad," he added 
 reassuringly to Weston, who bent over her, anxiously 
 watching her face, and rubbing her hands. 
 
 " Miss Ellsworth ! " cried Weston. " Don't you hear 
 me? We are safe." 
 
 At the sound of his voice, she slowly opened her 
 eyes, smiled faintly, and whispered : 
 
 " Thank you Mr. Crusoe." 
 
 " Here, give her some o' this," said Captain Ap- 
 pleby, handing Weston a tumbler filled to the brim 
 with brandy. " Poor lass, she's cold an' wet. I wish 
 my wife was here. Susan 'ud know what t' do. How 
 does that taste, Miss? Eh? Makes ye cough, does 
 it? Waal, it's jest th' thing to offset salt water in yer 
 stummick." 
 
 " I'm better now, thank you," she said feebly. 
 
 " She's better now, thank ye," cried the captain, 
 slapping Weston on the shoulder. " Here, Mate, take 
 some o' this yerself. Ye look kind o' white aroun' th' 
 gills." 
 
 Weston swallowed some of the fiery liquid. It 
 burned and strangled him, but he felt the invigorating 
 effect of it at once. 
 
 " She needs dry clothing, Captain," he said, handing 
 back the half-filled tumbler. " Can you help us out? "
 
 82 THE STAKE 
 
 The captain eyed the brandy meditatively, and then 
 solemnly emptied the contents of the tumbler down 
 his throat. Good liquor was not to be wasted. 
 
 " This is purty rough quarters fer ye, Miss, an' no 
 other woman aboard. But ye c'n count on Jonas 
 Appleby, an' the Mary Boyle t' carry ye safe t' land. 
 Th' victuals ain't fancy, but they're wholesome, an' this 
 cabin's your'n while you're aboard. But, speakin' o' 
 clothes why, they ain't no clothes that is to 
 say" 
 
 " I understand," said Miss Ellsworth, with a smile 
 and a faint flush. " I believe I am able to take care of 
 myself, now, thank you." 
 
 Her voice was still weak, but there were signs of 
 returning strength, and Weston with a sigh of relief, 
 turned away and went into the main cabin, followed 
 by the captain, who softly closed the door. 
 . /'An' now, young feller, it's your turn," said the 
 latter, crossing over to Weston who had dropped into 
 a chair. "We ain't so bad off fer men's togs, an' if 
 ye ain't squeamish, ye c'n git into a dry shirt an' a 
 pair o' trousers o' Bill's. I ain't sayin' they're clean, 
 but they're dry. Come on! 'Tain't no time fer 
 talkin' now. iYe c'n tell yer story by an' by. I know 
 how ye feel. Been shipwrecked twicet myself. An' 
 hungry 'nough t' eat rope. Say, you an' th' girl mus' 
 be hungry. I'll git ol' Sambo t' cook ye some tea an' 
 muffins. This 'ere's Bill's hole. Git in there an' make 
 yerself t' hum." 
 
 It was long after noon, when Weston was awakened 
 from the sleep of exhaustion into which he had fallen,
 
 THE STAKE 83 
 
 when, relieved of his wet clothing, and rolled in a 
 warm blanket, he had thrown himself on Bill's bunk, 
 utterly oblivious, to the odors of stale tobacco, tar, and 
 other delectable smells which filled the private apart- 
 ment of the first mate of the Mary Boyle. A hand 
 upon his shoulder was shaking him violently, and a 
 rough voice was saying: 
 
 " Here, wake up, my lad ! You've slep' long 
 enough. You need victuals, you do. Ol' Sambo's 
 been keepin' a plate o' pork an' taters warm fer ye, 
 an' it's high time ye was eatin' 'em. Wake up ! We're 
 out in th' open, an' plain sailin' ahead. Th' young 
 miss is askin' fer ye, too. Oh, ho! That set ye 
 thinkin', did it? Sambo's got yer clothes all dried fer 
 ye, an' th' young lady's, too." 
 
 Captain Appleby went out into the cabin, chuckling 
 to himself, and Weston, rolling out of the bunk, fol- 
 lowed him in a few moments, dressed and fully awake. 
 On the table was food, and he suddenly realized how 
 hungry he was. 
 
 " Set down an' eat. Ye look like a half -starved 
 wolf," cried the captain, standing with hands on hips, 
 and watching him good-naturedly. " Yes, th' young 
 lady's hed her dinner. Don't worry about her. She's 
 as fine as a fiddle. Never mind talkin' now. Wait 
 'til yer stummick's full. I know yer much obliged. 
 Don't need t' tell me that. Here comes Sambo with th' 
 meat an' taters. Help yerself. I'm goin' up on deck, 
 now. When ye git through, ye c'n j'ine me." 
 
 Left alone in the cabin, Weston gave no thought to 
 his surroundings. The one essential thing was food,
 
 84 THE STAKE 
 
 and before him was food in abundance, rough fare to 
 be sure, but all-sufficient for a half-starved man. He 
 was so ravenously occupied that he failed to notice 
 Miss Ellsworth, as she entered and stood silently watch- 
 ing him. When at last he raised his eyes to hers, 
 drawn by some subtle intimation that he was observed, 
 he sat for a moment in silence, content with the re- 
 assurance that she was alive and well. It was the girl 
 who first broke the silence. 
 
 " The captain told me not to disturb you until you 
 had time to eat," she said, smiling. 
 
 " I didn't hear you come in," he replied. " How long 
 have you been a witness of my outrageous appetite? " 
 
 " Only for a few minutes. I didn't dare to speak, 
 for I've always heard that it's dangerous to talk to 
 a starving man." 
 
 She came to the table and sat down opposite him. 
 
 " I have finished now," he said. " Tell me if you 
 have recovered from from this morning. I can 
 never forgive myself for taking the risk I did. It's 
 a miracle that we are alive." 
 
 " It was all my fault," she replied with a slight 
 tremor in her voice. " When those horrible waves 
 poured over us, I thought we were going to be drowned, 
 and that it was I who would be the cause of your 
 death. And you were so tireless, so so kind, 
 I" 
 
 She hesitated, and tears came into her eyes. Per- 
 haps she realized the effect of her words, for suddenly 
 she raised her eyes to him, and smiling through her 
 tears, said:
 
 THE STAKE 85 
 
 "And even now, I am dependent upon your gen- 
 erosity. I have no money, and am nearly as helpless 
 as when you rescued me the first time, Mr. Crusoe." 
 
 The words, spoken almost jestingly, carried a mes- 
 sage which Weston could not fail to understand. 
 There must be no display of sentiment on his part. 
 She was under his protection, and relied upon him to 
 spare her any embarrassment. Whatever his feelings 
 might be, for the present, at least, he must remain 
 Mr. Crusoe. 
 
 " Fortunately I have some money with me," he said. 
 " The main question is when will we get ashore ? 
 I must have a talk with the captain." 
 
 As he climbed the companion-way, her eyes followed 
 him with a wistful expression, and when he called back 
 to her : " Come up on deck. It will do you good to 
 get out of this stuffy cabin into the fresh air," she re- 
 plied quickly : " Wait until I get a wrap of some 
 kind." 
 
 " Sweethearts they are, or I'll eat my shirt," mut- 
 tered Captain Appleby to his mate, as the two refugees 
 approached him, the girl resting her hand on Weston's 
 arm, with an appearance of complete confidence and 
 trust in him. 
 
 " Umph ! " grunted Bill, hastily shooting a quid of 
 tobacco over the rail. " Nice thing for us to hev 
 aboard." 
 
 " Hold yer jaw, ye old bone-yard ! " growled the 
 captain. " Who brought 'em aboard ? An' who was 
 it went out to git 'em ? " 
 
 " Well, Captain ! " said Weston, as the two came
 
 86 THE STAKE 
 
 up forward. " Here we are, and very grateful to you 
 and the men who went out in the yawl to save us." 
 
 " Don't mention it," said the captain, with a wave of 
 his hand, as if to indicate that the deed was one of 
 daily occurrence. 
 
 Bill, with self-conscious embarrassment, shifted 
 from one foot to the other, and examined, with minute 
 care, the rigging overhead. 
 
 " Now that you've warmed us, and clothed us, and 
 fed us," continued Weston, " will you tell us where we 
 are bound? We should like to get ashore as soon 
 as possible. This young lady is very anxious to return 
 to her parents." 
 
 " We're boun' fer Boston, but I was calc'latin' t' 
 run in t' Portland to-morrer mornin', t' do a leetle 
 patchin'. We got kind o' twisted an' torn, the other 
 night, an' I don't like t' sail into port lookin' ontidy." 
 
 Weston turned to Miss Ellsworth. 
 
 " Then we can reach Boston to-morrow night," said 
 he. " We can surely catch some train. You'll not 
 have long to wait before you are safe home again." 
 
 " That's good news ! " she exclaimed joyfully, as they 
 turned and walked slowly along the deck. 
 
 " Don't act like it," muttered Bill, when they were 
 out of hearing. 
 
 " Like what? " said the captain sharply. 
 
 " Sweethearts." 
 
 " What do ye know about sweethearts, ye ol' 
 granny ? " 
 
 " They don't work reg'lar. Why ain't he got his 
 arm 'round her waist? "
 
 THE STAKE 87 
 
 "Better go an' tell 'em how, Bill. Ye've hed so 
 much experience." 
 
 The conduct of the supposed lovers continued to 
 worry Bill during the rest of the day. Even after 
 supper, in the calm which followed the storm, when 
 the moon came out clear and full, and Weston and his 
 companion sat side by side looking out over the spar- 
 kling waters, the mate was hovering in the vicinity, 
 watching for some proof of the captain's assertion. 
 
 " I never see him hug her oncet," he remarked, just 
 before turning in. " They ain't sweethearts."
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 IT is not to be supposed that two persons could go 
 through the experiences of Dick Weston and his 
 companion, and still present an everyday appearance. 
 It was indeed an odd-looking couple which stood on 
 the dock at Portland in the bright light of a sunny 
 May morning. In default of hairpins and combs, 
 Miss Ellsworth had twisted her hair in a knot at the 
 top of her head, and concealed it beneath a rough 
 sailor-cap, the gift of her silent admirer, Ned. Her 
 clothing was streaked with brine from its frequent 
 drenchings. There was a great rent in her skirt, 
 rudely patched, and a noticeable absence of collar. 
 But in spite of all this, her face looked out, rosy and 
 cheerful, defiant of criticism. 
 
 To Weston, she seemed the most adorable creature 
 in the world. The charm of their intimacy grew upon 
 him each moment, and as they walked up the street, 
 his eagerness to serve her aroused her spirit of co- 
 quetry. 
 
 " Really, Mr. Weston," she said, " I can't permit you 
 to buy a coat for me. It would embarrass me terri- 
 bly. Indeed, it's not to be thought of." 
 
 " But you will let me lend you the money, won't 
 you? How would it look for you to arrive home in 
 that old cap and torn gown ? "
 
 THE STAKE 69 
 
 " I'm sorry you are not satisfied with my costume," 
 she said, pretending to be offended. "Perhaps you 
 are ashamed to be seen with me." 
 
 "Of course I'm not," he hastened to assure her. 
 " But you should at least get a new hat." 
 
 "Don't you approve of this cap?" she inquired 
 archly. 
 
 "I certainly do," replied Weston gallantly. "You 
 look charming in it. As far as I am concerned, I 
 wouldn't have you otherwise than you are than you 
 have been the past three days." 
 
 " Now, Mr. Crusoe," said she, blushing and trying to 
 maintain an air of offended pride. " It isn't fair to 
 make fun of me. But I agree with you that the cap 
 will hardly do, so, if you please, I'll borrow enough 
 money to buy a cheap straw hat." 
 
 " Come, then," said Weston, pleased to have won 
 this concession. " We must hurry. The train for 
 Boston leaves in an hour." 
 
 At the milliner's they spent half of their time try- 
 ing to find a suitable hat, Weston volunteering his 
 approval or disapproval, all unconscious of the whis- 
 pered comments of the shop-girls, to whom the strange 
 couple offered an opportunity for most romantic sur- 
 mises. " They were a run-away couple." " No, they 
 had been married for a week, at least." ** What a 
 handsome man a sailor evidently." " Perhaps 
 they were only sweethearts." " The girl was a frump. 
 Look at her clothes. Pretty, but no style about her." 
 
 Her first reluctance overcome, Weston next per- 
 suaded her to buy a long rain-coat, and a pair of
 
 9 o THE STAKE 
 
 gloves. Arrayed in these, and her jaunty sailor-hat, 
 she declared herself able to defy a host of critics. At 
 the station, she had a few minutes in which to telegraph 
 to her father, while Weston was buying the tickets. 
 Then, with no luggage to delay them, they were soon 
 aboard the train, and bound for Boston. 
 
 For some time they rode in silence. Weston was 
 disturbed by the thought that soon they would part, 
 with nothing to bring them together again, or to enable 
 him to continue their friendship upon a more intimate 
 basis. He felt that he could not let her go, without 
 some understanding as to the future, and yet his sense 
 of propriety bade him wait until she could listen to 
 him freed from the embarrassment of her present situ- 
 ation of dependence. 
 
 But if it was a test o'f his patience, it was also a 
 trying time for the girl at his side. Instinctively she 
 realized the pent-up emotion of the man, and her heart 
 responded with a feeling of regret, as she thought that 
 in a short time he would leave her and she might never 
 see him again. Not daring to analyze this feeling too 
 closely, she tried to divert her mind by looking out of 
 the window. The silence became embarrassing. At 
 last Weston roused himself, and said : 
 
 " It seems a long time since breakfast. Aren't you 
 hungry ? " 
 
 "Hungry as a bear," she replied, with a smile of 
 relief. 
 
 " So am I. What do you say to dinner? There's a 
 dining-car on this train. It's one o'clock. Let's have 
 one good meal together. We've had plenty of poor
 
 THE STAKE 91 
 
 ones. Do you mind dining with a man in a blue shirt 
 and tarry jacket?" 
 
 " Blue is my favorite color," she replied. " And 
 as for your costume, it isn't much worse than my own." 
 
 They passed into the dining-car, found seats and 
 ordered a good dinner. 
 
 " I'm getting deeper and deeper in your debt," she 
 remarked. " You must figure it all up, and I'll have 
 papa send you a check for it." 
 
 " Shall I include your board and lodging on the 
 island ? " he asked with a frown. 
 
 "No," she replied softly. "That, I owe to Mr. 
 Crusoe." 
 
 " Mr. Crusoe ! " he exclaimed, shrugging his shoul- 
 ders. " Mr. Crusoe has served his purpose. " Isn't it 
 time to forget him ? " 
 
 " No," she replied, with a quick glance at his face. 
 " I shall never forget Mr. Crusoe, and the debt I owe 
 him." 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when the train rolled 
 into the big station, and the crowds of passengers 
 pushed and elbowed their way to the entrance. 
 
 Miss Ellsworth, with parted lips, and looking ex- 
 pectantly in all directions, hurried along the platform, 
 Weston following only a short distance behind her. 
 When they neared the great doors, through which came 
 the sharp cries of the cabmen, a porter loaded with 
 bags jostled Weston, and, for a moment, blocked his 
 way. By the time he had freed himself, Miss Ellsworth 
 was some distance ahead of him. He saw her run 
 up to a white-haired gentleman, and throw her amis
 
 92 (THE STAKE 
 
 around his neck. Then, as he approached them, he 
 heard her say : 
 
 " Is mamma here ? " 
 
 "Yes, there she is," replied her father, pointing to 
 a carriage. " See, she is looking for you." 
 
 "Here I am, dear," cried the girl, rushing to the 
 carriage, and throwing herself into her mother's arms. 
 
 Weston, only a few feet away, saw the gentleman 
 follow his daughter into the carriage, saw the door 
 closed, and before he realized what had happened, the 
 coachman had touched the horses lightly with his whip, 
 and they were off. 
 
 The whole scene had ben enacted within the space 
 of a minute. At first Weston could hardly believe his 
 senses. Then came an overpowering feeling of lone- 
 liness. She had left him without a word she, for 
 whom he had almost given his life. Into his heart 
 came the bitterness of disappointment and dejection. 
 He did not heed the hurrying, jostling figures which 
 passed him. His eyes still remained fixed upon the 
 corner, around which the carriage had disappeared. 
 When, at last, he recovered his self-possession, it was 
 with a realization of his strange appearance, and the 
 necessity for a change of clothing. He walked slowly 
 along the street for several blocks, undecided what to 
 do. Then, having made up his mind to go home to 
 his boarding-place, he stopped at a corner, and waited 
 for a car. 
 
 Absorbed in his own gloomy thoughts, he did not 
 notice a lady in deep mourning, standing near him, until 
 he heard a voice say :
 
 THE STAKE 93 
 
 "Please don't, Dicky, dear!" 
 
 Weston turned in surprise. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said, and then discovered 
 that the lady was a stranger to him, and that her re- 
 mark was addressed to a little boy, who was restlessly 
 pulling at her hand. 
 
 " Dicky," she cried. " You are hurting mamma. 
 We can't go until Edwards comes with the carriage." 
 
 "I want my ball," complained the boy. "It rolled 
 away." 
 
 " I can't get it for you, dear," replied the young 
 mother, patiently. " It's out in the muddy street. 
 Never mind. We'll get another to-morrow. You can 
 wait until then." 
 
 " But I want that one," wailed the unappeased 
 Dicky. 
 
 Then suddenly releasing his mother's hand, he darted 
 into the street. Weston, who had been watching the 
 little scene, saw the child stoop to recover his lost 
 treasure, saw a carriage bearing down upon the boy, 
 heard the driver shout in alarm, as he tried to hold 
 in his team, and then, without thought of danger to 
 himself, he rushed into the street, seized the child 
 and threw him to one side in safety. The next moment 
 he received a crashing blow upon his head, and was 
 hurled senseless to the ground. 
 
 A street accident in a large city acts like a magnet 
 upon the individual units of the mass of humanity 
 which surges back and forth along the thoroughfare, 
 and so, in an incredibly short space of time, a crowd 
 of curious spectators gathered about the prostrate form
 
 94 THE STAKE 
 
 of the unfortunate young man, whom a policeman had 
 carried to the sidewalk. 
 
 The banker, the merchant, the lawyer, hurrying by, 
 stopped to inquire what was the matter, and having 
 learned the facts, passed on, mentally consigning the 
 victim to one of the hospitals. The dainty lady, with- 
 held for a moment from her shopping, gave vent to 
 her transient sympathy, by an " Oh, dear ! what a pity," 
 wondered if the poor man had a family, and turned 
 away. The newsboy, working his way between the 
 legs of the crowd, took one look at the face covered 
 with blood, and the mud of the street, said, " Gee, but 
 he got a crack ! " and wriggled his way out. 
 
 In the midst, the policeman was trying to keep the 
 crowd back, while another, with club in hand, was 
 haranguing the driver of the carriage who, white-faced 
 and trembling, still sat on his box. 
 
 " Wot's y er name, young feller ? " shouted the offi- 
 cer to the coachman. 
 
 " My name is Ellsworth," said a white-haired gen- 
 tleman, who had emerged from the carriage, and forced 
 his way through the crowd. " This man is my coach- 
 man. What has happened?" 
 
 "Why, sir," said the officer, lowering his voice, re- 
 spectfully, "yer man has run down a young feller, 
 an' like t' killed him. How's he comin', Bob? any 
 signs o' life ? " 
 
 He turned to the other policeman, who was bending 
 over the unconscious man. 
 
 "He's breathin', but he needs th' doctor, quick. 
 Send in a call fer th' ambylance."
 
 THE STAKE 95 
 
 A lady, with a little boy clinging fast to her hand, 
 was standing beside the injured man. 
 
 " You can put him in my carriage," she said. " It 
 must be here. I was waiting for it on the corner, 
 when when Oh ! Mr. Ellsworth, do you sup- 
 pose that he is killed ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Carson ! " exclaimed the gentleman, lifting 
 his hat. " You here ! " 
 
 " Yes, I saw the accident. It was all Dicky's fault. 
 He ran out into the street, and then this man rushed 
 after him and seized him from under your horses, just 
 in time. In saving my boy, he was knocked down. 
 Oh, I'm afraid he's killed. Will somebody please take 
 him to my carriage? There is Edwards now." 
 
 " But, Mrs. Carson, wouldn't it be better to take him 
 to the hospital in the ambulance ? " 
 
 " No, no ! We mustn't delay any longer. I want to 
 take him to Dr. Stewart's office. Oh, dear, if he should 
 die!" 
 
 " I hope it's not so serious," said Mr. Ellsworth, 
 looking anxiously at the limp and apparently lifeless 
 form. "A very unfortunate accident very unfortu- 
 nate." 
 
 Then turning to his coachman, who was waiting just 
 beyond the crowd, he called : 
 
 " You may drive on with the ladies, Dobson. I'll re- 
 main here." 
 
 Ready and sympathetic hands helped to carry the 
 unfortunate young man to Mrs. Carson's landau, and 
 there, resting in the arms of one of the policemen, with 
 Mrs. Carson and Mr. Ellsworth on the opposite seat,
 
 96 THE STAKE 
 
 and the thoroughly frightened Dicky on the box, he 
 was borne rapidly away. 
 
 " Do you know the man's name, Officer? " asked Mr. 
 Ellsworth. 
 
 " No, sir. Never set eyes on him before." 
 
 " Make inquiries, will you, and let me know. I sup- 
 pose I must look after his family until he recovers." 
 
 " Please let me attend to all that," said Mrs. Carson, 
 turning to her companion. " It was Dicky's fault, and 
 it was in saving his life that the poor man was injured. 
 It's not only my desire, but my duty to see that he has 
 the best of care." 
 
 " Here's a name in the young feller's cap," said the 
 policeman, holding out to Mrs. Carson that much-used 
 and badly soiled article. " Can you read it ? " 
 
 The lady took the cap and examined it carefully. 
 
 " It looks like ' Bill Jenkins/ " she said ; then turned 
 doubtfully to the still face on the policeman's shoulder. 
 
 Through the stains of blood and dirt, there could be 
 seen the lineaments of refinement and good-breeding. 
 Her eyes strayed to the hands, which showed none of 
 the marks of coarse labor. The man and the name did 
 not seem to fit. 
 
 "Did I tell you?" suddenly interrupted Mr. Ells- 
 worth. " Did you hear that Louise had returned safely ? 
 You know she was out with the Ellisons in their steam 
 yacht during that big storm. We were terribly wor- 
 ried because we could get no trace of her, but we 
 didn't realize her danger. It seems the yacht was 
 wrecked, and Louise was picked up by a fisherman, and 
 brought ashore, but she fears the others were lost.
 
 THE STAKE 97 
 
 There were Mr. and Mrs. Ellison, and the Savages, and 
 a Mr. Ballou, besides the crew." 
 
 " I saw something of it in the paper this morning," 
 replied Mrs. Carson. " But I hoped it wasn't as bad 
 as reported. Do you really think they are lost?" 
 
 " Louise feels sure of it. I haven't had time to talk 
 with her about it. She came back only half an hour 
 ago. We met her at the station, and had started home, 
 when she insisted on going back to speak to some gen- 
 tleman who had been attentive to her on the train. I 
 didn't quite understand who it was. We had just 
 turned back, when we met with this accident. How 
 does the poor fellow seem now, Officer ? " 
 
 " Just breathin' like he was asleep. Acts as if his 
 head was cracked. Must ha' been hit by the pole of the 
 carriage. Where are we takin' him ? " 
 
 " To Dr. Stewart's office in the next block," replied 
 Mrs. Carson. 
 
 In the doctor's private operating-room, a few minutes 
 later, they all stood waiting for the verdict; Mr. Ells- 
 worth with a shade of annoyance upon his usually be- 
 nign countenance; Mrs. Carson's sweet face showing 
 pity and anxiety; Officer Brennan calmly waiting in 
 the discharge of his duty to report the facts at head- 
 quarters ; and poor Dicky, the cause of it all, still terri- 
 bly frightened. 
 
 " Concussion of the brain," said the doctor, carefully 
 washing away the blood and dirt. " There is probably 
 a slight fracture, and some adhesion, but I am in hopes 
 it will not be necessary to operate. Where does he 
 live?"
 
 98 THE STAKE 
 
 "We don't know," said the policeman, briefly re- 
 porting the facts. 
 
 "I suppose the hospital is the place for him," said 
 Mr. Ellsworth, impatient to bring to a conclusion a 
 rather unpleasant duty. 
 
 "By all means. He must have immediate care and 
 attention." 
 
 " Is it absolutely necessary that he go to a hospital, 
 Doctor?" inquired Mrs. Carson. 
 
 " Either there, or to his home. As you don't know 
 where he lives, the hospital is the only place for him." 
 
 " I would like to take him to my own house, if you 
 don't object." 
 
 " Mrs. Carson ! " exclaimed Mr. Ellsworth, in sur- 
 prise. " You mustn't think of such a thing." 
 
 " Could it be done, Doctor ? " asked Mrs. Carson. 
 
 " It's not an impossible thing to do," replied the doc- 
 tor, hesitatingly. " But surely, Mrs. Carson, you 
 don't" 
 
 " I wish to do it," she interrupted, smiling sweetly. 
 " It's the very least I can do." 
 
 " But he must have the care of nurses, and medical 
 attendance." 
 
 " You will attend to that," she replied, with another 
 smile. 
 
 " Well, I suppose " began the doctor, yielding 
 doubtfully. 
 
 " Shall we take him there now ? " she interrupted* 
 " And will you go with us, Doctor? You needn't worry 
 about it any more, Mr. Ellsworth. I know you are in 
 a hurry to return to Louise. Here is my card, Officer.
 
 THE STAKE 99 
 
 This gentleman is to be cared for at my house. Will 
 you help us move him to the carriage before you go? " 
 
 It is wonderful what a persistent woman can accom- 
 plish, especially if she is pretty and graceful, and, above 
 all things, a young widow. 
 
 That evening, the desk-sergeant at the central police- 
 station made the following entry: 
 
 Officer Brennan, No. 87, reports man run down by carriage at 
 corner of and streets, at five P. M. 
 
 Alan's name William Jenkins. 
 
 Residence Unknown. 
 
 Height Five feet, eleven inches. 
 
 Complexion Medium. 
 
 Hair Dark. 
 
 Face Smooth. 
 
 Wore old sailor-cap, blue flannel shirt, and sailor's 
 
 jacket. 
 Taken to the house of Mrs. Arthur Carson, widow, 
 
 No. Newberry St. 
 
 Attending surgeon. .Dr. Alexander Stewart. 
 Owner of carriage. . . Hon. James Ellsworth. 
 Driver of carriage.. .Thomas Dobson.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE Honorable James Ellsworth, State Senator, 
 Chairman of the Board of Charities, director in 
 two banks, and representative of a distinguished family, 
 sat alone in his library, reading the evening paper. 
 The room was luxuriously and tastefully furnished with 
 every provision for comfort which the wealth of its 
 owner could supply, and yet, in the midst of these 
 pleasant surroundings, with the memory of a delightful 
 dinner, just eaten, and the fragrance of a good cigar, 
 just lighted, Senator Ellsworth appeared to be ill at 
 ease. A deep frown wrinkled his forehead, his face 
 wore a troubled expression, and once or twice he ut- 
 tered an exclamation of disgust or anger. 
 
 The page which seemed to cause all this disturbance 
 in his usually calm and impassive nature, was the daily 
 market report, and the particular column which irri- 
 tated him most was that devoted to an account of the 
 fluctuations of copper stocks. From time to time he 
 jotted down notes in a memorandum-book, made com- 
 parisons with previous entries, scowled, muttered to 
 himself, and finally, dropping the paper, he went to a 
 telephone, called up some one named Travis, and re- 
 quested that person to come to him at once. Lighting 
 a fresh cigar, he slowly paced up and down the room, 
 so deeply absorbed in thought that he failed to hear 
 the door open.
 
 THE STAKE 101 
 
 " Are you receiving visitors to-night ? " called a merry 
 voice. 
 
 He turned and held out his hands in answer. 
 
 " You are always welcome, my dear," he said, draw- 
 ing her to him. 
 
 "More business problems?" she asked, looking past 
 him at the memorandum-book on the table, and then at 
 the frown which still lingered. 
 
 He nodded, laughed, and put the book in his pocket. 
 
 " What is it, Daddy? anything wrong?" 
 
 " No, nothing very serious." 
 
 " Is it another what is it you call it another 
 deal? I think you call them deals, but that always 
 sounds as if you were playing a game of cards." 
 
 He laughed again, and patted her cheek. 
 
 " It certainly is a game, my dear, and it sometimes 
 requires more skillful playing than at cards. We may 
 not always win, but we usually do." 
 
 He smiled complacently and went back to his seat 
 by the fire, while the girl, drawing a hassock to his side, 
 leaned upon the arm of his chair, and gazed dreamily 
 into the flame. 
 
 " What is it, my dear?" he asked. " Why are you 
 so sober? No deals in that little head of yours, I 
 trust." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " she replied, looking up quickly. " I was 
 only wondering has Mr. Travis learned anything 
 about about the gentleman who brought me home 
 the one who helped me, the time I was shipwrecked ? " 
 
 " I think not. I must ask him about it. I'm glad 
 you reminded me. The man must be rewarded. Let
 
 102 THE STAKE 
 
 me see he supplied you with money, too, didn't he? 
 How much was it ? " 
 
 " I don't remember/' she replied with a little impa- 
 tient frown. " I wish Mr. Travis would find him and 
 bring him here. I want you to meet him." 
 
 " That's hardly necessary. Travis can settle with 
 him. I'll tell him to give the fellow enough to satisfy 
 him. It's strange he hasn't turned up to claim it." 
 
 " I don't think he would ever do that," said Louise, 
 shaking her head. " Besides, I want you to meet him, 
 and and thank him. We ought to show our grati- 
 tude to him in some way." 
 
 " I tell you, my dear, that Travis is to attend to all 
 that." 
 
 " But, Papa, don't you think " 
 
 " I think my little girl is fretting herself unneces- 
 sarily," interrupted her father. " This man he was 
 a fisherman, wasn't he? or was he a lighthouse 
 keeper ? " 
 
 Then as she shook her head doubtfully, he went on : 
 
 " Whatever he was, his services entitle him to some 
 reward, and to my thanks, of course, but that's as far 
 as it should go. There could be nothing else in com- 
 mon between us. The matter ought to be settled, 
 though. I'll speak to Travis about it to-night." 
 
 "Is Mr. Travis coming here this evening?" asked 
 Louise. 
 
 " Yes," replied her father, looking at his watch and 
 frowning. " I sent for him. He ought to be here 
 soon." 
 
 " More business for you to worry about? " she asked.
 
 THE STAKE 103 
 
 " Some matters connected with with the syndicate," 
 he replied carelessly. 
 
 " What is it all about this business and this syn- 
 dicate?" 
 
 " What a very inquisitive young lady ! " laughed her 
 father. " You wouldn't understand, if I explained 
 it to you." 
 
 " Perhaps not, but I might try." 
 
 He smiled indulgently, and took a few puffs at his 
 cigar. 
 
 " We are trying to get control of the copper mar- 
 ket," he said. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Why ? " He looked at her curiously, for a mo- 
 ment, and laughed again. " I told you you wouldn't 
 understand." 
 
 " But why do you want to control the copper mar- 
 ket ? " she persisted. 
 
 "Because because Why, it means millions, if 
 we can swing it." 
 
 " You would make a great deal of money ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " Yes, if we win. But see here, Louise," he added, 
 " you mustn't speak of this to anyone not for the 
 present, at least." 
 
 "Oh! Is it a secret?" 
 
 " Not so much as I wish it was," he laughed. " I'm 
 afraid the other fellows have discovered our game. 
 To-day's market looks like it." 
 
 "What other fellows?" 
 
 " The fellows we are trying to corner but here,
 
 I 
 
 104 THE STAKE 
 
 I shouldn't be telling you all this. You can't understand 
 it anyhow." 
 
 " I can understand, Daddy, that you have been wor- 
 ried about something ever since I came home. But I 
 can't understand why you get into these syndicates. Is 
 it just to make more money ? " 
 
 " Why in a sense yes. Of course if we suc- 
 ceed, we yes we will make a very large profit." 
 
 " But, Daddy, you're rich now, aren't you ? Every- 
 body says so. Why do you want to make more money ? 
 Why don't you enjoy life with what you have? " 
 
 " Enjoy life ! I do enjoy life. I enjoy this very 
 business I am in now. I have planned every detail, 
 directed each move, watched results, overcome diffi- 
 culties, met each problem as it presented itself I tell 
 you, Louise, if I win this time, it will be the greatest 
 success of my life." 
 
 He had risen and was again pacing the floor. She 
 watched him in silence. 
 
 " You cannot imagine, my dear," he continued, " the 
 excitement, the exhilaration of such a battle as I am 
 fighting now. It takes all the skill and ingenuity I pos- 
 sess all the ability I have. The end is almost in 
 sight. I thought we had them beaten last week, but 
 there is just one more card to play, and then " 
 
 He stopped, looked at his watch again, and mut- 
 tered : 
 
 " I wonder where Travis is ? " 
 
 Then, with a laugh, he said: 
 
 "Well, do you think you understand now?" 
 
 She shook her head.
 
 THE STAKE 105 
 
 " I only know that you are nervous and tired, and 
 and I wish you had nothing to do with it. Somehow 
 it seems beneath you to be struggling in this way for" 
 for money." 
 
 He looked at her in surprise. 
 
 " For money ! " he echoed. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Money is the only measure of business success," 
 he said meditatively. " How else can we determine it? " 
 
 " I don't know only oh, Daddy, you have so 
 much why do you want more ? " 
 
 He turned to her impatiently. 
 
 " You don't understand, Louise. There, I was fool- 
 ish to try to explain to you. Just forget all about it. 
 Is that the door-bell? Travis, probably. Run along 
 now, dear, and don't worry about me." 
 
 After she was gone, he sat for a moment in a deep 
 study, until it was interrupted by a knock, and, imme- 
 diately afterward, a young man entered the room. 
 
 " Good evening, Senator ! " he cried, advancing with 
 outstretched hand. " Don't get up. I needn't ask if 
 you have heard the news. You have seen it in the pa- 
 pers, of course." 
 
 " You mean the advance in outside coppers ? Sit 
 down. I'm glad you've come, Travis. Tell me what 
 you've found out, and what you've done. You know 
 I am leaving this part of the business entirely in your 
 hands. This new move looks as though they had made 
 a gain somewhere." 
 
 " I don't understand it myself, Senator. It isn't pos- 
 sible that they have found us out. I can trust Blake
 
 io6 THE STAKE 
 
 for that. He graduated with me, and I know he's all 
 right. He went to Michigan three years ago, and has 
 made a special study of mining rights and titles." 
 
 " Well, what does he say ? " 
 
 " He says that this particular strip is the key to the 
 whole situation. It lies right between the Alpine range 
 and the ' Lucky Jack.' " 
 
 " ' Lucky Jack ' went up ten points to-day," remarked 
 Ellsworth, consulting his memorandum-book. 
 
 " He sent me a blue-print of the various ranges," 
 continued Travis, disregarding the interruption, " and 
 this shows the tappings of the ore-bed at several points. 
 The main body lies on this land. There seems to be 
 no question about it. The out-croppings and the gopher- 
 ings demonstrate it beyond doubt." 
 
 " Well, I had all that before. The question is : can 
 you get it? Travis, we must have it. If the 'Lucky 
 Jack ' people get it, it will make them strong competi- 
 tors. Without it, they must yield to our terms. The 
 capture of the Alpine range was a master-stroke. That 
 gives us control of the whole series of ranges, except 
 this ' Lucky Jack.' We had them on their knees last 
 week, but this new move looks as though they had 
 found another lease of life." 
 
 Travis nodded his head thoughtfully. It was no 
 small honor for a man of his age to hold the confidence 
 of such a one as Senator Ellsworth. He knew that, 
 upon the success of his services in this, his first big 
 case, depended his whole future. With infinite care, a 
 scheme had been devised which was to place within the 
 control of a handful of men almost the entire copper
 
 THE STAKE 107 
 
 industry of the country. One by one the various min- 
 ing companies had been forced to yield to the pressure 
 of a combination of wealth, against which they dared 
 not fight. Only a few had withstood the remorseless 
 and persistent attacks of the " syndicate," the chief 
 being the " Lucky Jack " mine, against which their ef- 
 forts had been recently directed. 
 
 As the result of persistent assaults, the stock of this 
 company nearly succumbed, and the mine was re-chris- 
 tened on the Exchange, " The Unlucky Jack." Within 
 the past two weeks, however, it had rallied upon rumors 
 that new and valuable property adjoining the mine was 
 to be acquired. It was this phase of the situation which 
 was now engaging the close attention of the syndicate 
 and its shrewd attorney, Travis. 
 
 " Have you anything new to report ? " said Ellsworth, 
 looking up from his memorandum-book, where he had 
 been jotting down some figures. 
 
 " Blake has been looking up the title. It seems dif- 
 ficult to find out who or where the real owner is. Some 
 fellow went in there about forty years ago, and got the 
 land from the government. The patent was issued all 
 right, but no transfer appears on the record. The man 
 who got the patent is not known in that part of the 
 country, and no one living in the vicinity remembers to 
 have seen him. Of course, most of the settlers have 
 gone in there during the last twenty years." 
 
 " Have the taxes been paid regularly ? " inquired 
 Ellsworth, sharply. 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "Who paid them?"
 
 io8 THE STAKE 
 
 " I asked Blake that very question, and He replied 
 that the taxes had been paid in the name of the owner, 
 by an old fellow living near there, named Bill Rankin." 
 
 " Well, can't Rankin tell where the owner is ? '' asked 
 the senator sharply. 
 
 " Blake is trying to find him now. He disappeared 
 about two months ago, and no one knows where he 
 went." 
 
 " Travis, you ought to take a hand in this. Each 
 day's delay may be fatal. This advance in the stock 
 means something. You must give all of your time and 
 thought to finding this party, and when you find him, 
 never leave him until you have landed him. Sound 
 him carefully, and see what he knows about the land. 
 Perhaps he is ignorant of its value. But, whatever you 
 do, get it." 
 
 " Very well, Senator. You know I have had to leave 
 it to Blake the past two weeks, while I was hunting for 
 that man Weston." 
 
 " Yes, I know. No new discovery there, I suppose ? 
 A strange disappearance. Louise seems to be very 
 much disturbed about it." 
 
 " For her sake, as well as your own, Senator, I have 
 spent a lot of time and energy following what appears 
 to be a ' will-o-the-wisp.' The man has vanished as 
 effectually as though the earth had swallowed him." 
 
 " Let him go. This other matter is more important. 
 Find the man who owns that land between the ' Alpine ' 
 and the * Lucky Jack/ and then look for this Dick Wes- 
 ton, or whatever his name is." 
 
 With which unconscious prophecy, Ellsworth dis-
 
 THE STAKE 109 
 
 missed the subject and his guest, who rose, made his 
 adietix, and passed into the hall. 
 
 Here the young attorney paused, as he heard the 
 tones of a piano in an adjoining room. With the privi- 
 lege of a frequent visitor, he went to the open door of 
 the music-room, and, as the music stopped abruptly, 
 entered in time to greet the pianist, as she rose from 
 her seat. 
 
 " Good evening, Louise ! " he cried. Then, observing 
 the sudden flush in the girl's face, he said : 
 
 " Miss Ellsworth, I suppose I should say, now that 
 you have become the heroine of an exciting tale of ship- 
 wreck and rescue." 
 
 " Good evening, Mr. Travis," replied Miss Ellsworth, 
 coolly ignoring his attempt at pleasantry. " Have you 
 come to tell me anything ? " 
 
 " Am I welcome only for the gifts I bring? " 
 
 There was a touch of bitterness in his speech, and 
 the girl smiled faintly, as she motioned him to a seat. 
 
 " I beg your pardon. Chopin has made me melan- 
 choly to-night, and my mood was rather ungracious, I 
 admit." 
 
 " Then Chopin and I are enemies from henceforth," 
 exclaimed the young man, dropping into an easy chair, 
 with the familiarity of an old acquaintance. " Please 
 play something bright and cheerful, and bring yourself 
 into your usual mood." 
 
 " Not to-night. Any music would sadden me. I 
 can't tell why. It's foolish, I suppose." 
 
 " How can I make you happy? " said Travis earnestly. 
 " You know there is nothing I wouldn't do for you."
 
 no THE STAKE 
 
 " You are a very good friend," she replied hastily, 
 " and I have proved you in more ways than one. I can't 
 thank you enough for this last kind service, even though 
 you haven't succeeded. There is nothing new, is 
 there?" 
 
 " You mean about this man Weston ? No. I can't 
 find any trace of him. He has utterly vanished. Why 
 not give up thinking about him? You will probably 
 never see him again." 
 
 Into the girl's eyes there came a look of surprise. 
 
 " Never see him again ? " she echoed. 
 
 " No," replied Travis, with a frown. " And it's bet- 
 ter so. Even if he be found, I can see no sense in your 
 meeting him. Your father has authorized me to re- 
 ward him liberally, and that is all he could hope for." 
 
 " Reward him ! He wouldn't accept it. He is a gen- 
 tleman, and he saved my life," she said. " I left him 
 without a word of thanks of farewell. What will 
 he think of me ? " 
 
 " He ought to think himself lucky to have had the 
 chance of saving you. Anybody would have done as 
 he did. Why do you want to make a hero of him ? " 
 
 " You don't understand ! " she exclaimed, shaking her 
 head. " If you had seen him had known him 
 perhaps you would be better able to judge." 
 
 " Louise ! " cried Travis, in alarm. " Your romantic 
 ideas have warped your judgment. One would think 
 that you cared for this man." 
 
 She gave him a startled look. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she asked. " Care for him ! " 
 
 " I mean that you are infatuated with mistaken grati-
 
 THE STAKE in 
 
 tude, which has made a hero out of an ordinary indi- 
 vidual, and set him up in your thoughts, until you are 
 near to worshiping him. Such devotion is dangerous 
 to your peace of mind." 
 
 She was silent and thoughtful for a moment, and 
 then with a laugh, which sounded forced, she cried : 
 
 " What a fairy tale you have made out of it. It re- 
 minds me of Belle Carson's adventure. You remember 
 the poor fellow who was run down by our carriage some 
 time ago ? " 
 
 " Yes, I heard about it." 
 
 " You know she took him to her house, and had doc- 
 tors and nurses for him, but he has been unconscious 
 ever since the accident, until yesterday." 
 
 " Why didn't they send him to the hospital ? " 
 
 " Because it was in saving little Dicky's life, that the 
 man was hurt, so Belle, in her impulsive way, insisted 
 upon having him taken to her house." 
 
 " It seems to me that a hospital would have been bet- 
 ter." 
 
 " I'm afraid you have no sentiment in your nature." 
 
 " I've tried to prove the contrary to you many times, 
 but you wouldn't listen to me," said Travis, meaningly. 
 
 " No one would ever suspect you of being senti- 
 mental," she replied. " But let me tell you about Belle. 
 I went to see her to-day. You know, we feel interested 
 in the man, although it really wasn't Dobson's fault. 
 \Vhen I came to the house this afternoon, she met me 
 with a torrent of words in praise of her hero, 'the 
 rescuer of her darling boy/ ' a perfect gentleman, in 
 spite of his shabby garments,' ' so patient and uncom-
 
 112 THE STAKE 
 
 plaining.' Think of that from staid, demure Belle Car- 
 son. And his name is Bill Jenkins. I am to see him 
 to-morrow, if the doctor will permit, and tell him how 
 sorry I am for Dobson's unfortunate act." 
 
 " Mrs. Carson's eccentric fancies do not interest me 
 as much as yours," remarked Travis, leaning forward 
 in his chair, and trying to hold her attention. " It wor- 
 ries me to have you brood over this man who had the 
 good fortune to serve you, as I would gladly have done, 
 if the chance had come to me. I know I am selfish, 
 but I can't endure to have anyone gain a foothold in 
 that heart of yours, where I have failed." 
 
 Then as she rose and drew away from him, he ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " Louise ! Is there no hope for me ? Give me some 
 task some test of my devotion, anything to give me 
 the chance of proving my love." 
 
 She stood against the piano, looking soberly at him, 
 as he leaned forward with outstretched hands. 
 
 " You have been my good friend always," she mur- 
 mured. " Do not deprive me of your companionship. 
 What you ask, I cannot give. I would be untrue to 
 you to myself, if I professed a love for you which 
 I do not feel." 
 
 " Is there no hope for me ? " he exclaimed, brokenly. 
 
 " I don't know. I can't foretell the future." As she 
 spoke she turned partly away. 
 
 " Then there is hope," he cried, springing to his feet. 
 " What can I do to win you ? I will seek fame, wealth, 
 everything for your sake." 
 
 She smiled doubtfully.
 
 THE STAKE 113 
 
 "Make the incentive for your ambition something 
 higher than the admiration of a woman." 
 
 " But I must do something. I can't drift idly, with 
 no effort to win you. Give me some task to perform." 
 
 She hesitated, and then, with a little nervous laugh, 
 she said: 
 
 " Find Dick Weston." 
 
 He started, as though he had been stung. An angry 
 reply rose to his lips, and then his strong nature took 
 command of his feelings. 
 
 " Very well," he said quietly. " If that is the task 
 you set for me, it shall be done. I swear that I will 
 find him, dead or alive. And then ?" 
 
 " Then I shall be under great obligation to you." 
 
 " And my reward ? " he asked in a low voice. 
 
 " Mr. Travis ! I am surprised ! That was hardly 
 up to your standard of gallantry. A gentleman 
 shouldn't ask for reward when a lady appeals to his 
 courtesy." 
 
 " Always Mr. Travis ! " he said bitterly. " Once you 
 called me by my first name. Why are you so formal 
 now?" 
 
 " That must have been years ago, when we were both 
 children," she replied with a demure smile. 
 
 " Then you have no more to say to me ? " he cried. 
 " I feel that I am playing a fool's part, but I'll stand 
 by my word. Good night!"
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 4CT"\O you think you're going to die?" 
 
 A-^ Weston smiled, and shook his head feebly. 
 
 " I'm glad you're not going to die." 
 
 Weston smiled again, encouragingly. 
 
 " 'Cause if you did, the p'liceman would have to hang 
 me. Martha said so." 
 
 Weston looked at the queer little figure, perched 
 cross-legged, in his night-clothes, on the foot of the bed. 
 
 " Why ? " he managed to whisper. 
 
 " 'Cause if I hadn't runned out in the street, you 
 wouldn't have been hurted," replied the penitent. " And 
 if you had died, the p'liceman would have to hang me. 
 Martha said so. I'm glad you didn't die." 
 
 " So am I," said Weston. 
 
 " I like you pretty well. And so does mamma. 
 Martha says you're a perfick gentleman. I heard her 
 say it. And Aunt Louise is coming to see you to-day." 
 
 " Aunt Louise ! " exclaimed Weston, trying to find 
 the name in his lost memory. 
 
 " Yes ! She's the one who killed you, pretty near. 
 But it was the coachman's fault. I was going to tell 
 the p'liceman so, if he tried to hang me." 
 
 Weston raised his hand to his head, still wrapped in 
 bandages. There were so many things he had forgotten. 
 That name, Louise, seemed to be ringing in his brain.
 
 THE STAKE 115 
 
 Where had he heard it? For the past four days, he 
 had been observing the strange faces about him, and 
 studying the strange room in which he was lying. Back 
 of that time, everything was blank. How he came to be 
 in such a place, or why he could not leave it, were 
 questions for which he could find no answer. As each 
 hour brought restoration of his faculties, he was slowly 
 piecing together the shattered fabric of his memory. 
 He knew now that he had met with some accident, and 
 that he was recovering. He knew that kind, strange 
 friends were caring for him, and that his mind was 
 slowly clearing. The sweet face of the woman, who 
 came daily, and sat by his bedside and fanned him, was 
 strange to him, and yet he seemed to recall it in a dream 
 from some other period of his existence. Then there 
 was the white-capped nurse, and the doctor. They, too, 
 were in his dreams. Louise ! The name was there, but 
 not the person. 
 
 " What are you thinking about ? " asked a piping 
 voice from the foot of the bed. " Please don't look so 
 white and still. It fwightens me. I would be much 
 obliged to you if you would get well." 
 " I'll try," murmured Weston. 
 The door opened softly, and a muffled voice called : 
 "Dick! Dick! What are you doing?" 
 Then there entered a figure, clad in an airy silk morn- 
 ing-gown, and again the sweet face of his dreams bent 
 over Weston's couch. 
 
 " Ah ! Mr. Jenkins ! You're awake, are you ? Did 
 this naughty boy disturb you ? Go to your room, Dick, 
 at once, and ring for Martha to dress you."
 
 Ii6 THE STAKE 
 
 Weston stared into Mrs. Carson's face. That name, 
 Dick! He remembered it somewhere in the past. But 
 Jenkins ! That seemed strange to him. Was it his own 
 name? 
 
 Mrs. Carson lifted his head carefully, and drew a 
 fresh, cool pillow under it. 
 
 "There," she said. "Doesn't that feel better?'.' 
 
 " Thank you," he replied, with a sigh of comfort. 
 
 " Miss Lindstrom will be here with your breakfast, 
 soon. You slept well last night, she tells me." 
 
 Weston's curious eyes followed her every movement, 
 as she drew back the curtains to let in the fresh air and 
 sunlight and arranged some flowers in a vase. 
 
 " I wonder if I might bathe your face," she said, 
 coming again to the side of the bed. 
 
 Without waiting for his answer, she brought a bowl 
 of water, and gently sponged the white face and the 
 thin, transparent hands, while his eyes looked wonder- 
 ingly into hers. 
 
 " You are very kind," he murmured. 
 
 " And you are very patient," she replied. " Dr. 
 Stewart says you are progressing finely, considering your 
 long illness." 
 
 " How long? " inquired the man, struggling to regain 
 his memory. 
 
 " Six weeks." 
 
 " What was the matter? " 
 
 " Don't you remember how you stood at the street 
 corner, and when Dicky ran in front of the horses to 
 get his ball, how you sprang after him ? " 
 
 " Yes ! Yes ! Yes ! " he whispered weakly, his face
 
 THE STAKE 117 
 
 lighted with sudden intelligence. " I remember. I re- 
 member. But you said ' Dick ' ! Who is Dick ? " 
 
 " My little son whose life you saved." 
 
 " His name is Dick ? " muttered Weston. " How 
 strange ! It seems as if I knew him many years ago." 
 
 " No," she said, smiling. " It's only six weeks since 
 you first saw him ; since you first saw me, his mother. 
 Do you remember anything before your accident ? " 
 
 He closed his eyes and tried to think. 
 
 " There was a ship, and and " 
 
 He paused, and pressed his hands to his head. 
 
 " I can't remember," he cried pitifully. In his weak- 
 ness, the tears rolled down his thin cheeks, and his 
 hands trembled with emotion. 
 
 " Don't try to think any more, now," said Mrs. Car- 
 son, gently stroking his brow. " It will all come back 
 to you, in good time, Mr. Jenkins." 
 
 " Mr. Jenkins ! " he said. 
 
 " Yes, that is your name." 
 
 " My name ? Jenkins ? I never heard it before." 
 
 Mrs. Carson rose hastily, and turned to the nurse, 
 who had just entered the room. 
 
 " Oh ! Miss Lindstrom," she whispered, " I'm afraid 
 I have been overtaxing his brain. I tried to bring back 
 his memory, and now he doesn't even recognize his own 
 name." 
 
 " It doesn't matter," replied the Swedish nurse, glan- 
 cing with a professional eye at the patient. " The body 
 must first be stronger ; then the mind. Come, sir ! " she 
 said, setting a tray near the head of the bed. " Here 
 is something to eat."
 
 Ii8 THE STAKE 
 
 " Mrs. Carson is the lady who was just here?" in- 
 quired Weston a few minutes later, between spoonfuls 
 of chicken broth, which Miss Lindstrom administered 
 with the regularity of clock-work. 
 
 " Yes. Don't talk. Eat." 
 
 "Do I know her?" 
 
 " Why not ? Here is toast. Good ? Eh ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Carson ! " repeated Weston, slowly. " I don't 
 remember." 
 
 " Never mind. Try again, this afternoon. There ! 
 Now to get you right for when the doctor comes." 
 
 She removed the tray of dishes, and next proceeded 
 to bathe his limbs with alcohol, working rapidly and 
 vigorously, and in silence. Weston gradually fell into 
 a dreamy state, and dozed peacefully. After its strug- 
 gle, his mind needed rest, and so he lay for some time, 
 oblivious to his surroundings, and only hatf conscious 
 of the sounds about him. When at last he opened his 
 eyes again, the first object which met his gaze was the 
 form of Master Dick, perched on a chair at the side of 
 his bed. 
 
 " Were you foolin' ? " inquired the boy, with a bright 
 smile. 
 
 "What?" replied Weston. 
 
 " Sh sh," came a sound from another part of the 
 room. " Don't make a noise, Dicky. He's asleep." 
 
 " No, he isn't, neither," replied Dick. " I guess I 
 can see his eyes, and they're wide open. You're not 
 asleep, are you, Mr. Jenkins ? " 
 
 " No ! " replied Weston, smiling. " Is your name 
 Dick?"
 
 THE STAKE 119 
 
 "Yes. What's yours?" 
 
 " Dick Dick Dick " said Weston, trying to ar- 
 ticulate the name which was calling from that far-away 
 memory. 
 
 The boy laughed aloud. 
 
 " You're funny. You don't know your own name. 
 What is it, nurse ? " 
 
 " William Jenkins," replied the woman, coming to 
 the bedside. " Now, run away." 
 
 " No," said Weston. " Let him stay. Did you say 
 that my name was William Jenkins ? " 
 
 "Yes. Now you mustn't talk." 
 
 " William Jenkins, William Jenkins," repeated Wes- 
 ton slowly. " I never heard the name before. I'm sure 
 it's not mine." 
 
 Miss Lindstrom looked at her patient curiously, and 
 returned to her seat by the window. 
 
 " Aunt Louise is coming to-day," began Dicky. 
 
 " Louise ! " exclaimed Weston, as a sudden ray of 
 light seemed to pierce his brain. 
 
 With that name there came the memory of the storm, 
 the hut, and the girl who had been his companion. 
 With a cry, he struggled to sit up, and then, overcome 
 by the exertion, sank back helpless and trembling with 
 excitement. 
 
 Thoroughly frightened by this outburst, Dicky tum- 
 bled from his chair, and backed towards the door, while 
 the nurse hurried to the bedside. Then, as she pre- 
 pared to give her patient a restorative, he opened his 
 eyes, and said quietly: 
 
 " I'm all right now."
 
 !I20 THE STAKE 
 
 Miss Lindstrom's quick sense told her that nothing 
 serious had occurred, and so, when Mrs. Carson en- 
 tered the room a few minutes later, she was able to re- 
 assure her with the remark : 
 
 " He's all right now. All he needs is rest. Let no 
 one disturb him." 
 
 " The doctor will be here soon," whispered Mrs. Car- 
 son. "And I have forbidden Dicky to come into the 
 room again to-day. If Louise Ellsworth comes, she 
 will have to wait until another time.'* 
 
 Weston, lying with his eyes shut, listened to the con- 
 versation around him, and his newly awakened intellect 
 understood it all. With deliberate care he went back 
 over the events of the week preceding his accident, down 
 to the time when he had stood on the street corner, be- 
 side the lady and her child. The rest of the history he 
 could imagine from what had been told him. Still there 
 was one thing which puzzled him. Why did they call 
 him William Jenkins ? And why was Louise Ellsworth 
 coming to see him? 
 
 When the doctor arrived he soon quieted the fears 
 of the two women. 
 
 " No fever ! Pulse strong ! How are you, my man ? 
 Better, eh ? We'll have you out in another week." 
 
 Crossing over to where Mrs. Carson was standing at 
 the window, he said in a low voice : 
 
 " You needn't worry any more about your patient." 
 
 " Is he really better ? " she whispered. 
 
 " He certainly is. I believe I'm safe in saying that 
 he's out of danger." 
 
 " It's a great relief to me."
 
 THE STAKE 121 
 
 " It must be. By to-morrow it will be safe enough 
 to remove him to the hospital." 
 
 " No, indeed ! " she replied, incautiously raising her 
 voice. " I'll not listen to it. He is to remain here until 
 he is well." 
 
 " Do you insist upon it ? Surely you have done all 
 that could be expected of you. Not one woman in a 
 thousand would have done as much." 
 
 The widow blushed before the marked admiration of 
 the handsome doctor, and turned to the patient, whose 
 closed eyes and passive face gave no intimation that he 
 had overheard their conversation. 
 
 " Not one man in a thousand would have done for 
 me what he did." 
 
 " He was fortunate in having the chance," growled 
 the doctor. " Then I suppose he's to stay here." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Very well ! Miss Lindstrom, you may take off the 
 bandages. I am in hopes it's for the last time. The 
 wounds ought to be healed by this time." 
 
 Mrs. Carson left the room, but returned again in a 
 few minutes, bearing a fine bunch of roses. 
 
 " See, Mr. Jenkins ! " she cried. " See what Miss 
 Ellsworth brought you! She wanted to tell you how 
 sorry she was for your accident, but when she found 
 that Dr. Stewart was here, she decided to send in the 
 roses, and call another day." 
 
 Weston murmured his thanks, and took the roses in 
 his hand, holding them to his face to enjoy the rich per- 
 fume. 
 
 " Of course she ran away if Dr. Stewart was here,"
 
 122 THE STAKE 
 
 said that gentleman, sourly. " It's my fate to be an 
 ogre to women. One would think that I carried con- 
 tagion about me." 
 
 Mrs. Carson smiled indulgently. She knew the worth 
 of the man, and, in her heart, admired him for his 
 genius, his noble character, and his great unselfishness. 
 Weston looking through, and over his roses, watched 
 the little scene, and listened curiously. 
 
 " I had forgotten, Doctor, that you were one of 
 Louise's admirers," said Mrs. Carson. " Perhaps you 
 resent her sending roses to Mr. Jenkins ? " 
 
 " One of her admirers ! " exclaimed the doctor, with 
 a grimace, and a shrug of his shoulders. " I don't enter 
 into a syndicate when I desire to show attention to a 
 lady. I would be the only one. Besides, Ned Travis 
 has the inside track, there. It is said that they're en- 
 gaged." 
 
 " Indeed ! I knew that they had been close friends 
 for several years, but I didn't suppose it had gone that 
 far." 
 
 " Ever since Miss Ellsworth passed through that 
 frightful experience, last month, Travis has been at the 
 house nearly every day. He may have had business 
 with her father, but he has managed to shut out every- 
 body else. Of course, I'm an exception, being the fam- 
 ily physician, and called in professionally for nervous 
 prostration and bad dreams. But really, she did have 
 an awful experience. Her mother gave me some idea 
 of it. Wrecked on an island, inhabited by some queer, 
 solitary man, who found her, and confined her in his 
 miserable hut, without food, for days, until she was
 
 THE STAKE 123 
 
 finally rescued by a passing steamer. I didn't get the 
 drift of the whole story, but it must have been a trying 
 time for the girl. She is still very much depressed at 
 times." 
 
 Weston laid down the roses and turned his head on 
 the pillow to hide his tears, which, in his weakness, he 
 could not restrain. He realized that he had lost her; 
 that she had gone out of his life. He accepted his fate, 
 but his whole manhood resented this unkind and unfair 
 account of his treatment of her. 
 
 In another part of the room, Mrs. Carson and the 
 doctor were conversing in low tones. He could not 
 hear what they said, nor did he care. The one thought 
 which was uppermost in his mind was, that she would 
 come to-morrow to see him, and would recognize him. 
 After what he had just heard, he could not endure that. 
 It must be prevented in some way. 
 
 As the door closed and some one left the room, he 
 looked up and found the doctor's face bending over him. 
 
 " Well, my man ! You're a lucky fellow. Most peo- 
 ple would have died under that blow. You owe much 
 of your recovery to the care and attention of Mrs. Car- 
 son, in whose house you have been the past six weeks." 
 
 " I am well aware of that," declared Weston, calmly, 
 " and I quite agree with you that I should go to a hos- 
 pital, now." 
 
 Dr. Stewart studied the face of his patient, curiously. 
 
 " Where do you live ? " he inquired abruptly. 
 
 Weston hesitated, and then replied: 
 
 " Nowhere in particular. That is to say, I have no 
 place I can call home."
 
 124 THE STAKE 
 
 "No family?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Friends?" 
 
 " Yes. I will communicate with them. What I want 
 you to do, is to get me away from here to-day. You 
 can arrange it. Just insist that I must go to the hos- 
 pital." 
 
 The words sounded like a command rather than a 
 request. The doctor was puzzled. 
 
 " See here," he exclaimed. " I want to know who 
 you are. What's your name ? " 
 
 " The name you gave me will do as well as any other." 
 
 " William Jenkins ? I don't believe it's your real 
 name. What kind of a mystery is this? Tell me. I 
 don't like it." 
 
 Weston pressed his hand to his head, and sighed. 
 
 " I'm too weak to argue it out with you," he said 
 feebly. " As a matter of courtesy from one gentleman 
 to another, I ask you to inquire no further into my af- 
 fairs, but have me removed to a hospital as soon as 
 possible. And one thing more. Please consider your- 
 self employed by me. I will pay the bill for your serv- 
 ices." 
 
 The doctor stood gazing down at the white face before 
 him, undecided what to do. The man's words and man- 
 ner entitled him to respect and confidence. Among the 
 many strange cases which had come under his charge, 
 this was the most peculiar. 
 
 " Well ! " said Weston anxiously. 
 
 " How do I know you are telling ,the truth ? " inquired 
 the doctor, with a frown.
 
 THE STAKE 125 
 
 A flush rose to the young man's brow, and his eyes 
 gave a sudden flash of anger. 
 
 " If you are small enough," he cried, " to take ad- 
 vantage of my weak condition to insult me, I'll ask 
 nothing more of you. Have your own pig-headed way." 
 
 The doctor smiled. This burst of passion appealed 
 to him more than anything else. 
 
 " I'll see if I can manage it," he said. 
 
 " And please hold what I have said in confidence, 
 will you ? " exclaimed Weston, responding quickly to 
 the change in the doctor's manner. 
 
 " All right, my friend. You can count on me. I 
 like your spirit. You've got the right ring. Whatever 
 your secret may be, I'm sure it is nothing discreditable 
 to you, and I won't betray you." 
 
 " Thanks ! " said Weston feebly, as he closed his eyes, 
 and yielded to the exhaustion which his effort had 
 caused him. 
 
 " You keep quiet and rest a while," said the doctor, 
 " and I'll try my arguments with Mrs. Carson. Here 
 is Miss Lindstrom ; I'll leave you in her care." 
 
 The doctor's interview with the widow lasted nearly 
 an hour, and it is doubtful that the sick man was the 
 sole topic of conversation, but the result might have 
 been foreseen. Weston was not surprised when he was 
 informed that the ambulance would call for him at 
 three o'clock that afternoon. 
 
 The news reached him through no less important a 
 channel than Dicky, who stole into the sickroom, with 
 a furtive glance at the august Miss Lindstrom, who 
 pressed a finger to her lips, and raised her eyebrows
 
 126 THE STAKE 
 
 warningly. Dicky crept to the bedside on tiptoe, and, 
 reassured by Weston's smile and outstretched hand, he 
 whispered : 
 
 " Say ! You're goin' away. In a amb'lance. Martha 
 said so. Are you glad ? " 
 
 " Are you ? " said Weston. 
 
 " No/' exclaimed the boy, impulsively. " I like you 
 awfully. I wish you'd stay. Mamma says you can if 
 you want to. And you haven't seen Aunt Louise. I 
 told her all about you this morning and she's awful 
 sorry about her horses nearly killing you. Will you 
 come back some time ? " 
 
 " Perhaps." 
 
 " I wish you wouldn't say ' p'rhaps.' Ev'rybody says 
 * p'rhaps ' when they don't want to say ' no.' 
 
 " I'll see about it." 
 
 " That's worse'n p'rhaps," pouted Dicky. 
 
 Weston smiled and patted his cheek. 
 
 " When I get my legs again, and a few wheels out of 
 my head, I'll come to see you, and we'll have a good 
 time together." 
 
 Dicky looked soberly at the spot where the missing 
 legs should be, and examined curiously the head with 
 its invisible wheels ; then drawing a deep breath, he re- 
 marked : 
 
 " I guess p'rhaps you'd better get fixed up first." 
 
 Late in the afternoon the transfer was made. After 
 a farewell with Mrs. Carson, in which that lady was 
 quite cool and dignified, and her guest of six weeks ex- 
 hausted his vocabulary of thanks in a vain attempt to 
 soften the abruptness of his departure, Weston was
 
 THE STAKE 127 
 
 safely carried to the hospital, and assigned to a private 
 room. 
 
 He had reached a clear understanding with Dr. Stew- 
 art, and that gentleman, still in the dark as to his pa- 
 tient's past history, made provision for his care and his 
 comfort, in the best which the hospital afforded. 
 
 The following day, Weston dictated to one of the 
 nurses a letter which was duly addressed and mailed to 
 Mr. Ezra Guilford, Atherton's Cove, Maine: 
 
 "My Dear Friend: 
 
 " Here I am in a Boston hospital, and nearly re- 
 covered from a bad accident. It is seven weeks ago, 
 since I said good-by to you and Mrs. Guilford, and 
 sailed away for Roger's Island, in the dory. A great 
 many things have happened to me since then, and I 
 could not write to you sooner. No doubt, by this 
 time you have given me up for lost. The people here 
 know me as William Jenkins. If you care to write 
 to me, send your letter in that name to St. James' 
 Hospital. I will come to see you when I am well. This 
 is only to let you know that I am alive. 
 
 " THE NEPHEW OF YOUR BEST FRIEND."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 DURING the week which followed Weston's en- 
 trance into the hospital, his recovery was rapid 
 beyond the prophecies of Dr. Stewart. That gentleman 
 called daily, partly from professional motives, partly 
 to improve his acquaintance with his singular patient. 
 As the invalid's strength returned, and he was able to 
 sit up and converse with less fatigue, Dr. Stewart found 
 in him an agreeable companion, whose manners showed 
 such refinement and education, that the mystery of his 
 identity became all the more puzzling. Yet, with in- 
 stinctive courtesy, the doctor refrained from asking any 
 questions which might seem personal and inquisitive. 
 Only once did Weston, in a moment of passion, betray 
 himself, and refer to his past. They were speaking of 
 the great improvement in hospital service, made possi- 
 ble through the magnificent endowments given by men 
 of wealth. 
 
 "Take, for instance, this very institution," said the 
 doctor. " It was founded twenty years ago, with only 
 limited means, and dependent upon the charity of the 
 public for its maintenance. Now, through the munifi- 
 cent gifts of such generous men as " here he named 
 a number of prominent and wealthy capitalists 
 " we are able to have the most modern equipment, and 
 the best surgical appliances in the world."
 
 THE STAKE 129 
 
 " You call them generous ? " exclaimed Weston bit- 
 terly. " I call them rascals and cowards, trying to quiet 
 their consciences by giving to charity some of the money 
 which they have extorted from their victims." 
 
 " My dear Jenkins," said the doctor, amazed by the 
 violence of the remark, " what foundation have you for 
 such an accusation ? " 
 
 " Some of those very men took from my father every 
 dollar he had," continued Weston, stirred to the depths 
 of his passion by the memory of his wrongs. " I don't 
 say they stole it. I wish they had. Then their pun- 
 ishment would have been easy to accomplish. They 
 drained it from him, drop by drop, curse them. They 
 gave him the alternative of sinking to their filthy level 
 of money-greed and money-worship, or of sacrificing 
 all he possessed to save his honor. He chose the latter 
 course, and they absorbed like a sponge the compara- 
 tively small capital which he had accumulated by years 
 of legitimate effort." 
 
 He laughed harshly, and continued : 
 
 " This doesn't appeal to you, Doctor, but it's a sorry 
 joke to me, that I am an inmate of an institution sup- 
 ported by the very men who drove my father to poverty 
 and death. Fortunately I am able to pay the hospital 
 the regular charge for my room and attendance. How 
 soon may I leave here ? " 
 
 " Before long. To-day, for that matter, if you want 
 to. Have you any place to go ? Pardon me for asking 
 the question, but I would like to know that you are to 
 be with friends." 
 
 Weston rose and paced up and down the room for
 
 i30 THE STAKE 
 
 a few minutes. Then stopping in front of his com- 
 panion, he said abruptly : 
 
 " I wish you would overlook the hasty words I spoke 
 just now. I have good reason to feel as I do, but I 
 want to hold your esteem and friendship. The redeem- 
 ing feature of this tedious sickness has been my ac- 
 quaintance with you. A strange thing has happened to 
 me, but, for the present, I cannot confide it even to you. 
 When my life is readjusted, I would like to come to you 
 and tell you all about it." 
 
 There was a rap at the door, and a servant handed 
 two cards to Weston. 
 
 " Mrs. Carson, and Miss Ellsworth," he read. Then 
 turning to Dr. Stewart, he said : " Will you give my 
 excuses to the ladies? Tell them, professionally, that 
 I can't see callers to-day." 
 
 " Oh, come down and surprise them, Jenkins. It will 
 please them both to have you walk in on them, clothed 
 and in your right mind. Surely you owe it to Mrs. 
 Carson. And poor Miss Ellsworth has tried her best 
 to apologize for her part in this affair." 
 
 Weston shook his head stubbornly. 
 
 " Not to-day," he said. 
 
 " Well, I'll try to make your peace with them. It 
 will be my last professional service in your behalf," said 
 the doctor, hurrying away. 
 
 Weston stood at the door and watched him as he 
 walked down the long corridor. 
 
 " I hope I haven't offended him," he murmured. 
 " He's a good fellow." 
 
 About an hour after the departure of the two ladies,
 
 THE STAKE 131 
 
 escorted by the gallant doctor, the neat little housemaid 
 of the hospital was again called to the door by another 
 visitor for the young man in room D. This time it 
 was a queer-looking old man who stood in the door- 
 way, peering out from shaggy eyebrows, beneath a 
 broad-brimmed felt hat. From a jungle of bushy gray 
 whiskers, a deep, but pleasant voice inquired: 
 
 " Is this the place where young Weston is stopping? " 
 
 " Is he a patient here?" asked the girl, doubtful of 
 the propriety of admitting a man dressed in a flannel 
 shirt and a linen duster, unless brought in on a 
 stretcher. 
 
 " Patient ! I guess so. If he's like his uncle, he is." 
 
 " I don't remember any such name as Weston, among 
 the inmates." 
 
 " Weston ! " exclaimed the man, with a broad grin, 
 which exposed evidence of the use of tobacco. " Did 
 I say Weston? What an old fool I am, anyway. His 
 name ain't Weston at all. It's Jenkins. That's the 
 name. Of course. How in thunder'd I come to say 
 Weston?" 
 
 " Mr. Jenkins is in room D. Will you send up your 
 card?" 
 
 " My card ? Why ! Bless your sweet face, my dear ! 
 I ain't got a card. You just run along, and tell him 
 Bill Rankin's come to see him." 
 
 " Please step into the hall and take a chair. I'll go 
 and tell him." 
 
 She started up the stairs, but paused half way, as she 
 heard heavy footsteps following her. 
 
 " I just thought I'd follow along to save time," re-
 
 132 THE STAKE 
 
 marked the unabashed Mr. Rankin. "You run ahead 
 sis, and show me where he is." 
 
 Down the corridor hurried the girl, the steady thump 
 of the thick-soled boots, resounding behind her upon the 
 hardwood floor. Without waiting to knock for a re- 
 sponse, she opened the door of room D, and exclaimed 
 breathlessly : 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Jenkins ! Here's a man to see you." 
 
 Then as the visitor paused in the doorway, at her 
 side, she shrank back, and allowed him to enter. 
 
 " Hallo, my lad ! How are ye? " 
 
 The voice resounded through the corridor, with a 
 startling echo. Weston came forward with a puzzled 
 expression on his face, while his visitor, carefully clos- 
 ing the door, turned to the astonished young man. 
 
 " Dick Weston ! " he exclaimed in a loud whisper. 
 " I'd know ye anywhere. Lord, but yer like him." 
 
 He advanced with outstretched arms, and laid his 
 hands on the young man's shoulders. 
 
 " Ye don't know me, do ye ? Of course not. How 
 should ye, never havin' seen me before? Did ye ever 
 hear tell o' Bill Rankin? That's me." 
 
 "Rankin! Rankin!" said Weston, doubtfully. 
 " Where have I heard of you ? " 
 
 " Didn't Ezry Guilford tell ye 'bout me an' yer uncle, 
 way out in Mich'gan? Now ye remember, don't ye? 
 Well, I'm him." 
 
 Weston seized the elder man's hand, and pressed it 
 cordially. 
 
 " You were Uncle Dick's friend. Yes, I know about 
 you. He thought a great deal of you, Mr. Rankin."
 
 THE STAKE 133 
 
 " Never was a man like him. He was solid meat, 
 was Dick. I ain't got over his dyin', yet. To think 
 I never knowed about it." 
 
 " Sit down," said Weston, touched by the other man's 
 words, and the tears which had gathered in his eyes. 
 " Sit down, and tell me about him." 
 
 For a half hour they talked together, Rankin relat- 
 ing, with the garrulity of a man of seventy years, the 
 events of forty years ago, when he and the elder Wes- 
 ton had been young men in that unsettled wilderness 
 on the shores of the great lake. Finally the conversa- 
 tion came to a more recent date, and Weston asked how 
 his new friend had discovered his whereabouts. 
 
 " From yer letter. When it come the other day, Guil- 
 ford was laid up with lumbago or rheumatiz or sunthin' 
 an' so I jest started out fer ye myself." 
 
 "How did you happen to be at Atherton's Cove?" 
 asked Weston curiously. 
 
 " Lookin' fer you. Say, what made ye take th' name 
 o' Jenkins? Have those fellers been trailin' you, too? " 
 
 "What fellows?" 
 
 " I don't know who they all be. 'Twas a lawyer 
 chap, 'from Superior, who started it. But I give 'em 
 th' slip. Don't you know about it? " 
 
 " No. This is all Greek to me." 
 
 " Greek ! Huh ! It's more like Winnebago Injuns. 
 They've been hot on my trail fer a week." 
 
 Weston kept his patience, and waited for the story 
 which he knew could not be hurried by any effort on his 
 part. 
 
 " Ye see, my boy ! Me an' yer uncle hed some
 
 I 3 4 THE STAKE 
 
 prop'ty up there in Mich'gan, 'longside of each other. 
 It never was good fer much 'cept huntin' an' fishin' an* 
 th' big pine trees which yer uncle loved. Many's th' 
 time me an' him's tromped through them woods happy 
 as two setter pups. He was allus kind o' quiet an' 
 solemn, but I knowed all th' time he was enjoyin' of 
 himself, even if he didn't say a word fer an hour at a 
 stretch. They wan't nobody livin' 'round there 'cept 
 a few Injuns, an' they was friendly. Th' huntin' was 
 good, an' we lied plenty to eat. Sometimes he'd stay 
 fer two or three months, an' then he'd pull out an' 
 leave me. It was ter'ble lonesome then, but I knew 
 he'd come back, so I kind o' kep' th' cabin clean an' 
 decent, waitin' fer him. I done some trappin', an' in 
 th' spring I took my furs down to Detroit, an' kind o' 
 killed time 'til Dick come back. Arter a while he used 
 to come seldomer, and seldomer, an' I see he was gittin' 
 old, like myself. The last four or five years he didn't 
 come at all, but twicet a year he'd write a letter, an' 
 tell me how he was, an' say lots o' cheerful things 
 'bout old times together. I got kind o' tired o' th' 
 place, an' moved into Superior. I hed saved a little 
 money, an' I thought I'd take it easy. 
 
 " 'Bout five years ago, they begun to git excited over 
 the copper mines. I'd knowed fer a long time they 
 was copper all through No'thern Mich'gan. The In- 
 juns used to dig it up. But I never thought much of 
 it, ontil one day some fellers come to me an' said they'd 
 been prospectin' on my land, an' found some copper. 
 They was purty decent about it, an' offered to give me 
 a fair share o' what they got, so I told 'em to go ahead
 
 THE STAKE 135 
 
 an' dig. Well, sir, would you believe it, them fellers 
 struck it rich; right there on my ol' wuthless piece o' 
 land. But they was square. They come to me an' said 
 they was goin' to 'corporate, an' offered to give me 
 some shares in the comp'ny, besides a r'yalty on all the 
 copper they found. You bet, I took 'em up. ' Lucky 
 Jack ' they call the mine. It was lucky f er me, sure 
 thing. Pays me over two hundred dollars a month." 
 
 " That's fine ! " exclaimed Weston. " I'm glad you 
 fell into such good hands. It's a wonder the infernal 
 copper trust didn't get hold of it. That's the same 
 crowd that ruined my poor father. They're trying now 
 to get control of the copper business." 
 
 " You've struck it right, my boy. They did try to 
 get the ' Lucky Jack,' but they couldn't do it. An' now 
 they're arter yer uncle's land your land, it is now. 
 They was a feller named Blake, a lawyer, livin' in Su- 
 perior, come to me and wanted to buy my land. He 
 talked kind o' soft, an' it sounded good to me. But I 
 put him off ontil I could see Sam Wade. Sam's th' 
 president of the ' Lucky Jack.' He persuaded me not 
 to sell. Said I was gittin' a good r'yalty out o' my lease, 
 and besides that, four of us hed control o' the mining 
 comp'ny stock, an' orter stick together. That sounded 
 all right to me. Them fellers hed treated me fair and 
 square, so I toi' Sam I'd never sell the land 'til he said 
 so, an' would always give him the first chance to buy. 
 So there she stands to-day. I own the land ; the ' Lucky 
 Jack ' Comp'ny has th' minin' rights, and I've got a lot 
 o' th' stock. It sounds a little mixed, but it works out 
 purty good fer me, an' I'm willin' to trust Sam Wade
 
 136 THE STAKE 
 
 an* his pardners. They never threw me yet, an' I'll 
 bet on 'em to th' last." 
 
 "That's right," said Weston; "I'd do the same if I 
 were in your place." 
 
 For some moments Rankin sat with his hands in his 
 pockets, and his eyes upon the floor, as though consid- 
 ering. Then he withdrew his hands, sat up suddenly, 
 and asked: 
 
 "Are ye goin' to sell the Mich'gan prop'ty? These 
 fellers want it, and want it bad ! " 
 
 " I've no objection," said Weston, smiling at the 
 other's enthusiasm. " It's a new thing for me to be a 
 property-owner. I suppose it's all right. Did you talk 
 with Squire Guilford about it ? " 
 
 " Not much," replied Rankin, hesitatingly. " Ye see, 
 I'm stoppin' at Dick's house your house an' it 
 wan't very easy to hev a word with th' squire privately." 
 
 "Why?" asked Weston. 
 
 "Ahem! Well! Ye see I'd hev to explain to 
 Ezry on th' quiet, an' 'twouldn't do fer women folks 
 to know. They might give it away." 
 
 " Mrs. Guilford isn't that kind." 
 
 " No. Mis' Guilford's all right. But they's others, 
 the widder, fer instance." 
 
 " The widow ? Oh ! I see. You mean Mrs. Briggs," 
 laughed Weston. " Ah I understand. Well, we can 
 talk it over, later. I'm rather tired now, and ought to 
 lie down and rest. I know you'll excuse me. My sick- 
 ness has taken away my strength, and I have to be a 
 little careful yet." 
 
 " Now what a plumb fool I am," cried Rankin, spring-
 
 THE STAKE 137 
 
 ing to his feet. " I fergot all about yer bein' sick. I'll 
 git out an' give ye a chance to rest up." 
 
 " Wait a moment," said Weston, as he went to the 
 couch and stretched himself out at full length. " Can 
 you get some money for me ? " 
 
 "Sure. How much?" 
 
 " I don't know. I want to pay the doctor's bill and 
 the hospital charges. If I can get those paid, I'll leave 
 here to-morrow." 
 
 " Would a thousand be enough ? 'Cause I've got 
 that much on my person. I always go loaded." 
 
 Weston laughed. 
 
 " That's more than enough. I'll find out just how 
 much I owe, and we'll settle up in the morning. Then 
 I can go." 
 
 " Where was ye thinkin' o' goin' ? " 
 
 " To Atherton's, of course." 
 
 "Hooray!" shouted Rankin. "That's th' talk. 
 Well, I'll leave ye now, and be back again in the morn- 
 in'. What time do they git up here ? " 
 
 " Come about nine o'clock." 
 
 "All right! Good-by!" 
 
 Weston listened for a moment to the tramp of his 
 boots, growing fainter and fainter, then wearied with 
 the excitement and exertions of the past three hours, 
 he closed his eyes and slept. 
 
 Meanwhile, Dr. Stewart, in his capacity of escort, 
 was enjoying the society of the two ladies to the neglect 
 of his professional duties. They spent an hour or more 
 driving in Mrs. Carson's carriage, and finally stopped 
 in front of the Ellsworth mansion.
 
 138 (THE STAKE 
 
 " Come in and have a cup of tea," cried Louise. " It's 
 too early to break up this pleasant trio." 
 
 The doctor abominated tea, but he was fond of Mrs. 
 Carson, and so awaited that lady's decision before com- 
 mitting himself. The decision being against him, he 
 submitted gracefully. 
 
 " I have a feeling that I am neglecting my other du- 
 ties," he said, as they entered the house. 
 
 " Other duties ! " exclaimed Mrs. Carson, emphasizing 
 the first word and raising her eyebrows. " Does that 
 imply " 
 
 " Oh, no," interrupted the doctor hastily. " This is 
 a case of pleasure before duty." 
 
 As they passed the library door, they heard the sound 
 of voices in the adjoining room. Prominent among 
 them was the voice of Travis talking excitedly, fol- 
 lowed by the deliberate tones of Senator Ellsworth, and 
 occasional remarks by others. 
 
 " We'll have tea in a moment," said Louise, ushering 
 her guests into a side room. " Find comfortable chairs, 
 and make 3'ourselves at home." 
 
 " Didn't I hear Ned Travis's voice in the library ? " 
 inquired Mrs. Carson. 
 
 " I presume so," replied Louise. " He has been here 
 nearly every day, lately. Some business with father." 
 
 " Of course he doesn't see father's daughter ! " 
 laughed Mrs. Carson. " How serious is it, Louise ? " 
 
 " Very serious, I should judge, from the hours he 
 spends with father in the library, night after night." 
 
 " Poor fellow ! So near and yet so far. Is it a case 
 of prohibition ? "
 
 THE STAKE 139 
 
 " Now, Belle ! " replied Louise, flushing. " I won't 
 pretend to misunderstand you, but really, you are far 
 from the truth in your suspicions." 
 
 " Indeed ! Hark ! Some one is coming from the li- 
 brary now. It's Mr. Travis. What do you say, Doc- 
 tor? Will he leave the house, or come here in search 
 of somebody ? " 
 
 She laughed roguishly, as the sound of approaching 
 footsteps was heard. 
 
 " Belle, you are an incorrigible tease," whispered 
 Louise, as she turned to meet Travis, who had paused in 
 the doorway. " Good evening, Mr. Travis ! You are 
 just in time for tea and wafers. Jane ! Another cup." 
 
 Travis, with ready self-possession, greeted the little 
 company, and seated himself beside Mrs. Carson. 
 
 " What has brought together this assortment ? " he 
 asked. " Stewart, I thought you were so devoted to 
 your profession, that social pleasures were barred." 
 
 " The ladies picked me up at the hospital," explained 
 the doctor deliberately, as if diagnosing his own case. 
 " I was acting as escort, and we stopped here a moment 
 at Miss Ellsworth's invitation." 
 
 " You doctors have all the luck," retorted Travis. 
 " But pardon my curiosity what were you three 
 doing at the hospital ? " 
 
 " Looking after Belle's young man," replied Louise. 
 
 " My young man ! " exclaimed Mrs. Carson. " Your 
 young man! It was your coachman who ran over 
 him." 
 
 "And your incorrigible boy, who was the cause of 
 the accident,"
 
 140 THE STAKE 
 
 " Is all this abo.ut that young workman you have 
 been taking care of, the past month, Mrs. Carson ? " in- 
 quired Travis. " I heard about it. Everybody is 
 praising you for your charity and kindness." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " cried Mrs. Carson. " I simply gave 
 the man a room and a nurse. Dr. Stewart is the one 
 who saved his life." 
 
 " It was a life worth saving," remarked the doctor, 
 thoughtfully. " But it was the man's physical strength 
 and nerve which brought him through." 
 
 " He's all right, is he? " inquired Travis, with passive 
 interest. 
 
 " Yes. He is to leave the hospital in a few days. I 
 don't know what will become of him. Seems to have 
 no family and no occupation that I could discover. A 
 fine fellow, too." 
 
 " Poor devil ! " remarked Travis, dismissing the sub- 
 ject, as Jane entered with the tray. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Travis ! " exclaimed Mrs. Carson. " Give 
 an account of yourself. How do you happen to be 
 here?" 
 
 " Force of gravity, Madame." 
 
 "What's the attraction?" 
 
 " Primarily, dollars ! Secondarily, the pleasure of 
 your society." 
 
 " A most ungallant arrangement." 
 
 " But true, much to my regret. It is my fate to be 
 "a slave to business, although my inclination is all in 
 other directions." He shrugged his shoulders and 
 wagged his head from side to side with a comical ex- 
 pression of despair.
 
 THE STAKE 141 
 
 "How is it, Louise?" said Mrs. Carson. "Has 
 your house become a business center ? " 
 
 " Papa's library seems to be, judging from the daily 
 conferences there. I'm sure I don't know what it's all 
 about." 
 
 " Tell us, Mr. Travis," exclaimed Mrs. Carson. 
 " What is the important business you have on hand, 
 now?" 
 
 " Hunting for a man," replied Travis. 
 
 Louise turned with a start. 
 
 " I might say, for two men," he added, in response 
 to her look of inquiry. 
 
 " Two men ? " asked Mrs. Carson, upon whom the 
 exchange of glances was not lost. 
 
 " Yes. One for Miss Ellsworth, and one for her 
 father." 
 
 Louise flushed deeply, and then said with dignity : 
 
 " Mr. Travis has been good enough to interest him- 
 self in my search for the man who saved my life." 
 
 " Richard Weston ! " cried Travis, mockingly. " Alias 
 Dick ! Alias Robinson Crusoe ! Alias Has he any 
 other names, Miss Ellsworth ? " 
 
 " Yes ! A gentleman ! " cried Louise, with a dan- 
 gerous fire in her eyes. 
 
 " One hundred dollars reward for Gentleman Dick ! " 
 said Travis, oblivious of the girl's displeasure. " One 
 hundred dollars, dead or alive I Make a note of it, 
 Doctor! You may run across him in your rounds." 
 
 " I hope I shall, for Miss Ellsworth's sake," replied 
 the doctor, hastening to interpose. " Who is the other 
 man? What's his name ?"
 
 142 THE STAKE 
 
 " Don't know. That's the trouble. You can't trace 
 a man without knowing his name, can you ? " 
 
 "Where does he live?" 
 
 " I wish I knew." 
 
 " What a mysterious person," exclaimed Mrs. Car- 
 son. " I'm all curiosity. Is there a secret about him ? " 
 
 " Not exactly," replied Travis, hesitatingly. " Just 
 a matter of business." 
 
 "What is it? Come! Tell us!" 
 
 Mrs. Carson's pretty face was bright with expectancy. 
 Travis turned to Louise. 
 
 " Will you permit such a conspiracy in your own 
 house? This is a case of bribery. Mrs. Carson is try- 
 ing to persuade me to betray a professional secret." 
 
 " You are not always so cautious about telling of 
 your affairs," she retorted. 
 
 " But this isn't my affair. It's your father's, and 
 the men associated with him." 
 
 " The great copper syndicate, I suppose," exclaimed 
 the girl, impulsively. " Poor papa has been worrying 
 about it so much lately. I wish he would give up busi- 
 ness." 
 
 " He may well do so, if he carries this deal through." 
 
 " But who is the man you are looking for ? " persisted 
 Mrs. Carson, while Dr. Stewart with a laugh said : 
 
 " You might as well confess, Travis. You have gone 
 too far to recede, now. The ladies are bound to draw 
 it out of you." 
 
 " Oh ! You are all making too much fuss about it. 
 It's no great secret. This man owns some land we 
 want to buy, and we can't find him."
 
 THE STAKE 143 
 
 "What kind of land? Where is it?" asked Mrs. 
 Carson. 
 
 Travis laughed nervously. His own judgment 
 warned him not to say too much, and yet it seemed 
 foolish to appear so mysterious about a matter in which 
 these persons could have no interest. 
 
 " Just a lot of worthless land, away out in Michigan," 
 he said carelessly. 
 
 " Worthless ? " repeated Mrs. Carson. " Then why 
 do you want to buy it ? " 
 
 " Oh ! Just for the scenery and the beauties of na- 
 ture." 
 
 "And copper?" interjected Dr. Stewart, with a 
 knowing wink. 
 
 "Perhaps. That remains to be seen." 
 
 Mrs. Carson clapped her hands. 
 
 " I'm sure it's a rich discovery, which will make 
 everybody wealthy. Oh, Louise! I wish your father 
 would let me invest in it. Do they ever admit ladies 
 to a syndicate, Mr. Travis?" 
 
 " I'm afraid you wouldn't care to take the chances." 
 
 " Let's get up a syndicate of our own," cried the irre- 
 pressible little woman. " Will you join, Dr. Stewart? " 
 
 " Indeed I will," he replied with enthusiasm. 
 
 " The first thing we'll do, is to find the man " 
 
 Travis laughed. 
 
 " Find the man, and I'll guarantee a satisfactory re- 
 ward." 
 
 " Could we buy it from him cheap ? " 
 
 " If you don't make too much noise about it," re- 
 plied Travis, good-naturedly.
 
 144 THE STAKE 
 
 " Doesn't the man know what the land is worth ? " 
 asked Louise suddenly. 
 
 " I hope not." 
 
 "What do you mean by that?" 
 
 " I mean that we want to buy it from him, before he 
 finds out but here, I'm talking too much." He rose 
 to his feet. " I must be going," he said hastily. 
 
 But Louise stood before him, her large eyes looking 
 straight into his. 
 
 " Is it possible, Mr. Travis, that you are going to 
 take advantage of this man? Do you suppose that my 
 father would permit you to do such a thing? " 
 
 " It's all in the way of business, Louise Miss Ells- 
 worth. You mustn't misjudge us. If we have knowl- 
 edge which another has not, we are entitled to the re- 
 ward of our own diligence, our own shrewdness. We 
 shall pay the man all he asks for the land, and he will 
 be satisfied." 
 
 " Until he finds out that he has sold a fortune for a 
 pittance." 
 
 " Poor devil ! " remarked the doctor, sympathetically. 
 
 Travis shrugged his shoulders, and started for the 
 door. 
 
 " I'm sorry that I've put myself in such a bad light, 
 but you know you forced me to tell you. The man 
 isn't found yet, and some one may get at him before 
 we do." 
 
 " I sincerely hope so," said Louise. 
 
 Travis, startled by the strange tone of her voice, tried 
 to catch her eye, but she bowed coldly, and he turned 
 away and left the house.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 { { l\/fy Dear Travis: 
 
 ** 4- '-* " My man has just reported to me the com- 
 pletion of his search through the records. He finds 
 that the land was entered and patented June 3d, 1861, 
 by Richard Weston, and that there has never been a 
 transfer of the title since that date. Up to 1878 the 
 taxes were paid by Weston, but since that time a man 
 named William Rankin has been paying them in Wes- 
 ton's name. About three weeks ago this man Rankin 
 paid the taxes, as usual, but had the receipt made out 
 in the name of the estate of Richard Weston, stating 
 that he had received word of his friend's death. My 
 correspondent could learn nothing further, except that 
 Rankin had gone east, presumably to find Weston's 
 heirs. Will advise you if I learn anything more. 
 
 "Yours, 
 
 " BLAKE." 
 
 Travis sat in his private office, and re-read the letter 
 which he had just received in his morning mail. He 
 recalled the stormy interview which he had held with 
 his clients, the day before, in Senator Ellsworth's li- 
 brary; when he had been told that he must show im- 
 mediate progress in his work, or his services would no 
 longer be required. It had been a bitter pill for him
 
 146 THE STAKE 
 
 to swallow, but he could not afford to break with his 
 influential employers, and so, smothering the passionate 
 reply which rose to his lips, he had made promises, 
 which, at the time, he knew not how to fulfill. The 
 letter from Blake had come in the very nick of time. 
 It furnished a clew. 
 
 " Richard Weston ! " he muttered. " Strange ! The, 
 name of Louise Ellsworth's rescuer! Of course it 
 couldn't be the same man. Besides, he's dead, and it 
 is with his heirs that the deal must be made. The first 
 move is to find these heirs. That means a long search, 
 and loss of valuable time. The man, Rankin, might be 
 found more easily." 
 
 He sat for a moment thinking deeply, and then, 
 pressing an electric button, he turned to his assistant, 
 who promptly appeared. 
 
 " Wayne, I wish you would make the rounds of the 
 hotels, and see if you find the name of William Rankin 
 registered during the past three weeks. Try all of 
 them. Call Miss Rand as you go out." 
 
 To his stenographer he dictated a telegram to his 
 correspondent in New York, directing a similar search 
 of the hotels of that city. He prepared advertisements 
 for the papers asking for information of the where- 
 abouts of the heirs of Richard Weston. He searched 
 the directories of several cities, prepared a list of per- 
 sons named Weston, and arranged a form of letter to 
 be sent to each. Then taking his hat, he left the office 
 and boarded a street car. 
 
 After a ride of two miles or more, he alighted, and 
 walked rapidly down a side street, until he came to a
 
 respectable-looking boarding-house, where he stopped 
 and rang the bell. 
 
 " May I see Mrs. Foster ? " he inquired of the red- 
 cheeked Irish girl who came to the door. 
 
 " Yissir ! " replied the girl, with the nod of an old 
 acquaintance. " She's in the kitchen, but I'll have her 
 here in a jiffy. An' have ye found the young gintle- 
 man yet ? " 
 
 " No ! " replied Travis, shortly, as he passed her, and 
 went into the neat sitting-room. 
 
 " Well, yer not so shmart as ye t'ink," muttered the 
 girl, as she went to call her mistress. 
 
 Mrs. Foster, rotund and perspiring, soon appeared 
 before Travis, wiping her hands upon her apron, and 
 looking at her visitor over her spectacles. 
 
 " Waal, I'm glad ye've come. You're a liyar, an' can 
 tell me if I done right." 
 
 " Certainly, Mrs. Foster," said Travis, not heeding 
 her remark. " Any word from young Weston ? " 
 
 " That's just what I want to talk to ye about. He 
 wouldn't say whether Mr. Weston was dead or alive. 
 He jest said, * Woman, you send that boy's clothes to 
 his folks at Atherton's Cove.' Those was his exact 
 words." 
 
 " W T ho are you talking about ? " demanded Travis 
 peremptorily. 
 
 " The old man who come here this mornin' ! " 
 
 " What old man ? What was his name ? " 
 
 " I don' know. Hoi' on ! Yes, I did hear him say 
 his name was Ranking or some such name." 
 
 Travis sprang from his chair, excitedly.
 
 I 4 8 THE STAKE 
 
 " Do you mean to say that William Rankin was here 
 to-day, inquiring about Richard Weston?" 
 
 " Massy's sakes ! " exclaimed the landlady, pushing 
 her spectacles over her forehead. " You don't sup- 
 pose he meant any harm to him, do you ? " 
 
 But Travis was already on his way to the door. If 
 Rankin was in the city, looking for Weston, there was 
 no time to be lost. He must find the one, and, through 
 him, the other. Hurrying back to the office, he found 
 Wayne awaiting him. 
 
 " Here's the record you want, sir. William Rankin 
 has been at this hotel for two days, but paid his bill and 
 left this morning." 
 
 Travis dropped into a chair, and wiped the perspira- 
 tion from his forehead. 
 
 " Thanks, Wayne ! " he said. Then as the clerk 
 turned to leave him, he called : 
 
 " You didn't find out where he went, did you ? " 
 
 " No, but I will." 
 
 " Good. See if you can." 
 
 Deliberately and calmly the young lawyer reviewed 
 the facts, and planned his movements. The probability 
 was that Rankin had discovered the whereabouts of 
 Weston, and Weston had sent him to his boarding-place 
 for his clothes. But the clothes were to be sent to 
 Atherton's Cove. Then Weston must be there, too. 
 The Richard Weston who owned the land in Michigan 
 was dead; then this Richard Weston was perhaps his 
 son. 
 
 Suddenly he started forward in his chair, with a 
 gasp of surprise. He had forgotten for the moment
 
 THE STAKE 149 
 
 that his first visit to Mrs. Foster's was in the interest 
 of Louise Ellsworth, in a search for her rescuer. What 
 a strange combination of circumstances! Was it pos- 
 sible that Dick Weston, hero of Louise Ellsworth's 
 thrilling escape, and Richard Weston, heir to one of 
 the richest copper prospects in the country, were one 
 and the same person ; that his double search was for one 
 man only? Strange as it seemed, Travis was con- 
 vinced that his surmise was correct, and with the con- 
 viction came a sense of satisfaction that he alone held 
 the key to the mystery. The information which had 
 come to him, was a favor of fortune which he might 
 use to his own advantage in more ways than one. 
 
 When Wayne returned in the course of an hour, with 
 the information that a man answering Rankin's de- 
 scription had purchased two tickets for Oldfield, and, 
 with a younger companion, had left on the morning 
 train, Travis smiled. 
 
 " I had guessed as much. Let me know about the 
 trains, Wayne. I must follow them as soon as possible." 
 
 " I looked that up while I was at the station. There 
 is a morning train at ten-thirty. The other trains 
 don't stop at Oldfield, except upon special orders. 
 Shall I try to get an order for the night train to stop ? " 
 
 " No. I'll wait until morning." 
 
 He looked at his watch, and found that he had only 
 time to dress for dinner. His new discovery restored 
 his spirits, and he could not resist sending a message 
 to Senator Ellsworth, stating briefly that he was on 
 the track of his man, and hoped to find him to-morrow. 
 Later, when a telephone call at his club brought an
 
 150 THE STAKE 
 
 urgent request from the senator to come to his house 
 at once, Travis obeyed with alacrity, and, in the quiet 
 of the library, told his client some of the latest develop- 
 ments of the case. 
 
 " Who did you say was the owner of the land, 
 Travis ? " asked the senator after listening intently for 
 a few minutes. 
 
 " The owner is dead. It is his heir that I am looking 
 for," replied Travis. 
 
 " But what was his name ? " inquired the elder man 
 persistently. 
 
 " This man, Rankin, knows all about it, and I have 
 Rankin located, at last. I hope to see him to-morrow." 
 
 " See here, Travis ! "" exclaimed Ellsworth, impa- 
 tiently. " Don't try to dodge matters with me. I've 
 asked you twice, what is the name of the man who 
 owned this land. If you know it, tell me. If you 
 don't know it, it's time you found out." 
 
 " I expect to find out everything to-morrow, when 
 I see Rankin." 
 
 " Rankin ! Rankin ! Can't you see, man, tfiat your 
 trick is to find the owner before Rankin does? How 
 do you know that Rankin isn't working for the other 
 side?" 
 
 Travis started, and an anxious look came into his 
 face. 
 
 " I confess, that thought never occurred to me." 
 
 " You see ! It isn't safe to be over-confident. You 
 are young and have a few things to learn. The first 
 thing is to find the name of the owner of the land." 
 
 " His name was Weston," said Travis.
 
 THE STAKE 151 
 
 "Weston? Well, why didn't you say so before? 
 Weston! Not an uncommon name. There must be 
 families of that name here in Boston. I seem to re- 
 member the name. Let me see " 
 
 He frowned, pursed his lip, and bent his head in 
 deep study. There was a light tap at the door, a swish 
 of skirts, and Louise entered the room. 
 
 " Oh ! Good evening, Mr. Travis ! " she said, a look 
 of surprise on her face. " I thought papa was alone, 
 and just run in to see if he didn't want a game of 
 cards." 
 
 " Louise," said her father abruptly, " do we know 
 some people named Weston ? " 
 
 The girl started, flushed deeply, and replied : 
 
 " No one, except the gentleman who saved my life." 
 
 " That's it ! That's where I heard the name. Travis 
 was just telling me " 
 
 " I was saying to your father," interrupted Travis, 
 with a warning signal to the senator, " that I had just 
 heard of an old man named Weston, who died recently, 
 and he was quite positive that he was an acquaintance of 
 his. No doubt it was the similarity of the name which 
 gave your father the impression." 
 
 This lame and labored statement was sufficient to 
 put Ellsworth on his guard, and, while he could not un- 
 derstand the necessity for such extreme precaution, he 
 was careful to say no more about it. On the other 
 hand, Louise, who would otherwise have given no 
 thought to the matter, became convinced of some secret 
 which Travis was trying to conceal from her. His 
 interruption of her father, his hesitancy, his very ap-
 
 152 .THE STAKE 
 
 parent uneasiness, aroused her suspicions, and she de- 
 termined to force from him the truth, or a deliberate 
 falsehood. 
 
 " Mr. Travis 1 Have you ever discovered any trace 
 of the man I asked you to find? " 
 
 " I have made a diligent search, and have never found 
 him." 
 
 " That doesn't answer my question," she said impa- 
 tiently. " I asked you if you had found any trace of 
 him." 
 
 Travis glanced towards Ellsworth, as if appealing 
 to him for help. But that gentleman appeared to be 
 an indifferent listener, and not inclined to participate in 
 the conversation. 
 
 " I thought I had found a clew," said Travis, hesi- 
 tatingly, avoiding her eyes. " A man of that name has 
 been living in a boarding-house in Boston, but he has 
 not been there for nearly two months, and the woman 
 who keeps the house couldn't tell where he had gone. 
 There ! You see it didn't amount to much. I thought 
 it was hardly necessary to bother you about it." 
 
 " And you found nothing more nothing to show 
 where his home was ? " 
 
 " Nothing definite," replied Travis, trying to hold to 
 the truth, and yet determined not to betray all he knew 
 or suspected. 
 
 " Why can't you be frank with me ? " cried the girl, 
 passionately. " Because I'm a woman, you try to sat- 
 isfy me with phrases, when I want to know the whole 
 truth." 
 
 " Louise ! " exclaimed her father sharply. " You for-
 
 THE STAKE 153 
 
 get yourself. I am surprised at your exaggerated in- 
 terest in this fellow. It is nothing for you to worry 
 about. If Travis finds him, I'll see that he is properly 
 rewarded. Now, run along, dear. Wait, Travis ! I've 
 something more to say to you." 
 
 "See here, Travis! What's all this about?" he 
 asked, after Louise had left them alone together. 
 " You're keeping something back. Out with it." 
 
 Travis shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Merely a surmise on my part. It occurred to me 
 that possibly this man, Weston this fellow Miss Ells- 
 worth is so anxious to discover, is the very man we 
 are looking for in connection with the land deal." 
 
 " Nonsense ! What put that into your head ? " 
 
 " There are several things which point that way. So 
 I thought best not to say too much to Miss Ellsworth, 
 until I knew the facts. If my surmise were true, it 
 would be a little awkward to handle the case, especially 
 if we were handicapped by her sympathies." 
 
 " Perhaps you are right, but it sounds like another 
 piece of romance. It seems strange that, at my time 
 of life, I should be involved in a series of fantastic 
 events. First came that shipwreck ; then the disappear- 
 ance of the man, Weston ; next, the injury to the fellow, 
 Jenkins; and now this annoying chase after the mys- 
 terious owner of that piece of land. Travis, you must 
 find him. Drop everything else. Work night and day 
 until you find him. I hope you are on the right track 
 now. We must have an option on that land just as 
 quick as it can be got. You know the terms. If he 
 won't accept them, hold him, and telegraph for me."
 
 154 THE STAKE 
 
 " I hope to report success before the end of the 
 week," said Travis, confidently, as he prepared to leave. 
 " Will you please say good night for me to Miss Ells- 
 worth ? I hope I haven't offended her. We have been 
 such good friends for many years, and you must see, 
 sir, that I that I care for her very much. I am in 
 hopes, some day, to win her consent, and yours, to " 
 
 He paused, and the senator, with a condescending 
 smile, and a wave of his hand, said : 
 
 " All in good time, my young friend ! Carry out this 
 work which has been put in your charge, and who 
 knows what may happen ! " 
 
 In another part of the house, Louise was trying to 
 persuade her mother to join her in a trip into the 
 country. 
 
 " My dear child, it is not to be thought of. I have 
 a paper to read to-morrow at a meeting of the D. A. R. 
 Next Monday the guild meets here. Then I have prom- 
 ised Dr. Peters to help him Tuesday in his effort to 
 organize a literary society in the church. And, you 
 know, Wednesday is the regular meeting of the Board 
 of Managers of the Colonial Dames. You see it is im- 
 possible for me to go. July first, we will break up as 
 usual, and go to Marblehead Neck. Can't you rest con- 
 tent until then ? " 
 
 " I'm not discontented, Mamma, but I am restless, 
 I admit. I wonder if I could get Belle Carson to go 
 with me. You wouldn't object to that kind of arrange- 
 ment, would you ? " 
 
 " No ! Belle is a perfectly proper person. But do 
 you suppose that she will go ? "
 
 THE STAKE 155 
 
 " I don't know. I'll ask her to-morrow." 
 
 " Where did you plan to go ? " 
 
 " Oh, somewhere along the coast ! " 
 
 " I am so afraid of the water, dear, since your last 
 experience." 
 
 " But I am not going on the water." 
 
 " Very well ! If Mrs. Carson will go with you, I 
 have no objection." 
 
 " Thank you," said Louise, kissing her. " And good 
 night. It's after ten o'clock." 
 
 " Where is your father ? " 
 
 " In the library with Mr. Travis." 
 
 " Still talking about that copper business, I suppose," 
 sighed Mrs. Ellsworth. 
 
 " What is there about it, Mamma ? What are they 
 trying to do ? " 
 
 " Oh, dear, child ! Don't ask me ! Some combina- 
 tion your father is making, to control the price of cop- 
 per, I believe." 
 
 " How does he do it? " asked the girl curiously. 
 
 " Louise, dear, if I knew, I would be as brilliant as 
 your father. In a general way, I understand that, by 
 combining a large amount of capital, these men are 
 able to control things." 
 
 " It must take an immense amount of money, to own 
 all there is of such a thing, for instance, as copper." 
 
 " They do not buy it all. They get control, some- 
 how. Of course there are others who are not in with 
 them." 
 
 " What do the others do? " 
 
 " The others ? The ones who are not in the syndi-
 
 156 THE STAKE 
 
 cate ? Why, I suppose they try to meet the competition 
 of the trust. They generally have to give up." 
 
 " Is that fair ? " inquired the girl solemnly. 
 
 " Fair ? I presume so. Don't ask me. I am very 
 ignorant of business matters. Ask your father. He 
 can tell you. He made all his money in that way. You 
 know he wouldn't do anything wrong." 
 
 " Of course not," replied the girl, dreamily. 
 
 Later, when she was in her own room, she hunted up 
 a time-table, spread out the map, and searched along 
 the coast of Maine, until she came to a name in very 
 small print. 
 
 " Atherton's Cove ! " she said, smiling to herself. 
 " If Belle will only go with me ! "
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE first week of June is the annual resurrection- 
 time for the inhabitants of Atherton's Cove. 
 Then it is, that certain things occur with the regularity 
 of ancient custom. The windows of Simpson's store 
 are washed, and last year's exhibit of merchandise re- 
 moved, to make way for late importations of gum, let- 
 ter-paper, painted china, souvenir-spoons, ten-cent 
 novels, neckties, soap, and fishing tackle. The pro- 
 prietor of the " Ocean View Hotel " engages " extry 
 help," and prepares his annual advertisement for the 
 Boston papers, reciting the beauties of the spot, the fish- 
 ing, sailing, etc., and, above all, the superb attractions 
 of his hostelry. 
 
 Thrifty villagers, who do not believe in monopolies, 
 whitewash their fences, hang freshly starched curtains 
 in their windows, and display signs, inviting visitors to 
 enjoy with them " board and lodging for three dollars 
 a week." 
 
 But the real opening of the season is when " Dad " 
 brings out his flotilla of sailboats, freshly painted, and 
 anchors them near the wharf, where they may be seen 
 in the foreground of the waterscape, dancing saucily, 
 with their masts stiffly beckoning and enticing tired and 
 dusty landsmen. 
 
 Then is the time when Squire Guilford greases afresh
 
 158 THE STAKE 
 
 the axles of his stage, when the price of eggs advances 
 to twelve cents a dozen ; and when the postmaster makes 
 a requisition upon the Department for an additional sup- 
 ply of stamps. 
 
 Those who have watched the progress of local events 
 for many years, speculate upon the first arrivals 
 whether the Gibsons will come before the Spragues, or 
 if old Mr. Raines will appear again. Each afternoon 
 about five o'clock, the more curious among them may 
 be found in the vicinity of the hotel, watching for the 
 arrival of the stage, and the discharge of its tired pas- 
 sengers. 
 
 " Comin' awful slow, this year," remarked Squire 
 Guilford to his wife, as he finished polishing his face 
 on the kitchen towel, preparatory to supper. " Only 
 two passengers last night, besides young Weston and 
 Rankin. To-night they was jest one man, an' him a 
 stranger, to boot. Sol Allen, daown t' th' hotel, 'lows 
 it's 'count of th' change of administration. But he's 
 sech a pig-headed Democrat, he lays everythin' from 
 th' price o' butter t' th' change o' weather, ag'in th' Re- 
 publican party. Is supper ready ? " 
 
 " Purty near. Ye c'n set daown." 
 
 " Got t' go over an' see young Dick, jes' 's soon's I 
 can," remarked the squire, spearing a boiled potato. 
 
 "What's yer hurry?" 
 
 " Bus'ness matters, Mother ! Yew wouldn't onder- 
 stand, ef I told ye." 
 
 Mrs. Guilford shrugged her shoulders, and expressed 
 confidence in her own intellect by a muttered sound, 
 composed of a sniff and a grunt.
 
 THE STAKE 159 
 
 " I'll go 'long with ye," she said, " as soon's I wash 
 up my dishes. 'Twon't take ten minutes." 
 
 " Now, Mother ! What do yew want t' go f er ? 
 I've got some bus'ness t' talk with Dick an' Rankin, 
 an' we don't want no women 'round." 
 
 " Not even th' widder ? " inquired Mrs. Guilford, sar- 
 castically. 
 
 " Th' widder ! I sh'd say not." 
 
 " She'll be there jes' th' same," continued Mrs. Guil- 
 ford. 
 
 " Then we'll hev t' go out in th' barn er some'eres." 
 
 " But, Ezry ! Ye mustn't stand aroun' in th' night 
 air, so soon arter thet attack o' rheumatiz." 
 
 The squire grunted disdainfully, and helped himself 
 to another slice of ham. 
 
 " Ef I went along with ye, Ezry, I c'd sort o' keep 
 th' widder's mind busy with sunthin' else." Mrs. Guil- 
 ford insinuated this last remark with ingenious persua- 
 sion, and the squire finally consented that they go to- 
 gether to Weston's. 
 
 " Ezry ! Hev ye noticed th' widder lately ? Seen 
 anythin' strange about her goin's-on ? " 
 
 The squire looked up in blank surprise. 
 
 "Goin's-on!" he said. "What goin's-on?" 
 
 "Hain't yew seen it? Waal, men air blind, sure 
 'nough." 
 
 " Speak up, Mother ! " said the squire, complacently. 
 " Ef ye've got any gossip concealed about yer pusson, 
 let it out 'fore it blisters ye. What's Mis' Briggs been 
 a-doin' now ? " 
 
 Mrs. Guilford looked about her cautiously ; then plac-
 
 160 THE STAKE 
 
 ing her hand beside her mouth, and giving a duck for- 
 ward across the table, she whispered loudly : 
 
 " Mr. Rankin ! " 
 
 " Eh ! " exclaimed the squire, laying down his knife 
 and fork, and staring doubtfully at his wife. " What 
 about Rankin ? " 
 
 " She's arter him." 
 
 "No!" 
 
 "Yes! Sure's I live." 
 
 Guilford burst into a hearty laugh, and tipped back 
 in his chair. 
 
 " Rankin an' th' widder ! " he cried. " Waal, thet is 
 a joke. What makes ye think so ? " 
 
 " I seen it goin' on th' time he was here before, an' 
 now she's tryin' fer him ag'in." 
 
 " Waal, thet does beat th' Dutch ! " exclaimed the 
 squire, slapping his leg emphatically. 
 
 Mrs. Briggs was not disposed to view with any de- 
 gree of satisfaction the arrival of Mrs. Guilford, when, 
 an hour later, that estimable woman, accompanied by 
 her husband, appeared at the Weston home. The sug- 
 gestion that they retire to the best room, and leave the 
 men to themselves in the sitting-room, found no fa- 
 vorable response in the widow's breast. She continued 
 to rock contentedly, while she kept her eye fixed on 
 Rankin, and her ear open to catch each word of the 
 conversation. In vain Mrs. Guilford discussed the 
 latest news of the village, or the condition of the crops, 
 or the recent arrivals at the hotel. She received only 
 short replies, and but slight attention. 
 
 Meanwhile the squire, trusting to his wife to hold in
 
 THE STAKE 161 
 
 check the widow, was trying to convey by signs and 
 mutterings, that he had important news to tell to Ran- 
 kin and his young friend. 
 
 " Supposin' we stroll out t' th' barn," he said, after 
 waiting in vain for a movement on the part of his usu- 
 ally tactful wife. 
 
 " Jes' 's you say ! " remarked Rankin, good-naturedly. 
 
 " Mr. Rankin ! " exclaimed the widow, sharply. 
 " Hev yew f ergot thet cold in yer head ? 'Tain't safe 
 t' go aout arter sundown." 
 
 Rankin looked sheepishly at Guilford, while the latter 
 gazed out of the window, and whistled softly. Dick 
 Weston, who was examining some papers at a desk in 
 the corner, took in the situation in a glance over his 
 shoulder, and laughed quietly to himself. 
 
 " Perhaps the ladies would retire," he said, " if the 
 squire has anything private he wishes to say to Mr. 
 Rankin." 
 
 The two men looked at each other and nodded ap- 
 provingly. But, if they thought to be rid of the widow 
 so easily, they were very much mistaken. 
 
 " Thet's the same as sayin' ' ye ain't wanted,' " she 
 exclaimed. " I s'pose it's a perlite way o' gittin' red o' 
 folks, but it ain't th' way I wuz brought up." 
 
 She rocked more violently than ever, and sniffed her 
 disapproval of the suggestion, but gave no indication 
 of yielding. 
 
 Weston, from the gloom of his corner, was secretly 
 amused at the discomfiture of the two elder men, and 
 the blank look of helplessness on Mrs. Guilford's face, 
 after this dramatic outburst from Mrs. Briggs.
 
 162 THE STAKE 
 
 The squire fidgeted in his chair for a moment, and 
 then burst out : 
 
 " 'Tain't anythin' t' make sech an all-fired fuss abaout. 
 I jes' wanted to tell ye, Rankin, that they's a man in 
 taown lookin' fer ye." 
 
 "Lookin' fer me?" exclaimed Rankin. "Well, let 
 him look. I don't care now." 
 
 He turned to Dick and added in a lower tone : 
 
 " One of them fellers. He's trailed me here. We'll 
 hev a look at him when he comes." 
 
 " Nice spoken feller," remarked the squire. " As'd 
 me a lot o' questions." 
 
 " I'll bet he couldn't beat yew." 
 
 Guilford smiled. 
 
 " He didn't git much information out of me. As'd 
 ef yew was here, an' how long sence Dick Weston died, 
 an' who was his heirs. But I didn't let on that I 
 knowed much. Said I heerd yew'd been here. Tol' 
 him Dick Weston died two months ago, an' the executor 
 of his will hed been a-lookin' fer heirs ever sence. 
 Then he said ' Who's the executor ? ' ' Ezry Guilford,' 
 says I. ' Is he at Atherton's Cove now ? ' says he. 
 'No!' says I." 
 
 " Why, Ezry ! " interrupted Mrs. Guilford. " Haow 
 could yew tell a lie ? " 
 
 " 'Twan't no lie, Mother. It was gospel truth. I 
 wan't at Atherton's when I tol' him, was I? I was 
 on th' road from Oldfield." 
 
 Mrs. Guilford looked doubtful, and Mrs. Briggs ex- 
 pressed her opinion by a sharp sniff. Rankin laughed 
 aloud and slapped his knee with delight.
 
 THE STAKE 163 
 
 " You're a good one, Squire," he shouted. " Did ye 
 find out who he was ? " 
 
 " Yew bet I did. He give me his card. Here it is. 
 Yew read it, I ain't got my specs." 
 
 " Edgar Willoughby Travis, Attorney at Law, Bos- 
 ton, Mass.," read Rankin deliberately. 
 
 " Travis ! " exclaimed Weston, rising hastily and tak- 
 ing the card from Rankin's hand. " Travis ! Where 
 have I heard that name before? Oh, yes, I remember 
 now." 
 
 He stood silent for a moment, as he recalled the 
 room in Mrs. Carson's house, when the doctor and his 
 fair hostess gossiped carelessly about the supposed en- 
 .gagement of Ned Travis and Louise Ellsworth. " This 
 must be the very man," he thought. " Strange, that 
 he should be here at Atherton's Cove.'' 
 
 " Here it is ! " suddenly exclaimed Mrs. Briggs, who 
 had been searching through a black silk bag which hung 
 from her waist. " Here's th' card. Ain't that th' same 
 name ? " 
 
 She handed to Weston an exact duplicate of the card 
 he was holding. 
 
 "Where did you get this?" he inquired, bewildered 
 by this new bit of evidence. 
 
 " He left it here a month ago. That's th' man I told 
 ye about, Squire Guilford, an' yew jes' sneered at me 
 as if it wan't nothin' important. I knew then they wuz 
 sunthin' at th' bottom of it, but I kep' my own counsel, 
 seein' 's others as should be friendly to widders an' or- 
 phans, would give no heed t' my words." 
 
 ",You say this man, Travis, was here a month ago,
 
 164 THE STAKE 
 
 Mrs. Briggs?" demanded Weston. "What did He 
 want?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! That's jes' th' way. One minute ye want 
 to git red o' me, an' th' nex' minute, when ye need 
 me" 
 
 " Come, Mrs. Briggs," interrupted Weston sharply. 
 " Please answer my question. What did this man want, 
 when he called a month ago ? " 
 
 Rankin and Guilford exchanged glances, and nodded 
 approvingly, as if commending the young man's cour- 
 age. Mrs. Guilford sat upright, and gazed blankly at 
 Mrs. Briggs. The widow, recognizing in the nephew 
 a tone of authority which, on rare occasions, his uncle 
 had used towards her, dropped back into her chair with 
 a subdued expression on her face. 
 
 " He as'd for Mr. Weston," she said meekly. " An' 
 I tol' him he wuz dead an* buried. Then he as'd if he 
 left a son, an' I said no he didn't. Then I as'd him in, 
 an' he said how sorry he wuz fer me in my affliction, 
 an' he would leave his card, in case I needed any legal 
 advice any time. Oh! he was a very nice gentleman." 
 
 " Is that all he said ? " inquired Weston. 
 
 " Yes. Of course, they wuz things he said which 
 wuz private between us. I s'pose ye wouldn't ask me 
 t' repeat that." 
 
 Dick turned to the squire. 
 
 " What do you think of this? " he said. " The fel- 
 low is working at some scheme. He hasn't come up 
 here twice, without some definite purpose. Does he 
 know I am here ? " 
 
 " He jes' as'd if Mr. Rankin wuz here. Didn't say
 
 THE STAKE 165 
 
 nothin' 'baout yew, but he's a lawyer chap, an' I jeclge 
 he's sharp, so mebbe he knows more'n we think." 
 
 " Well, for the present don't tell him I'm here. I 
 want to find out what he is after. I never saw him and 
 he doesn't know me. If we happen to meet him, you 
 might call me Bill Jenkins. That's the name I've 
 been going under the past month." 
 
 There was a rap at the door. Mrs. Briggs uttered a 
 shriek, and Mrs. Guilford clutched the sides of her 
 chair convulsively. 
 
 " Land sakes ! " she cried. " Whut next? " 
 
 " I'll go t' th' door," said Rankin. " Yew women- 
 folks act as scairt's a gun-shy setter." 
 
 He went into the hall, opened the door, and, from 
 within, they could hear a low conversation. Then there 
 were footsteps, and Rankin ushered a stranger into the 
 circle. 
 
 " Mr. Travis of Boston ! " he announced. 
 
 " This here is Squire Guilford, an' this is his lady. 
 The other lady you've met before." 
 
 Travis shook hands with the squire, bowed to the 
 ladies, and then turned inquiringly to Weston. 
 
 "My friend, Bill Jenkins!" said Rankin. 
 
 Weston came forward, and held out his hand, which 
 Travis grasped cordially. 
 
 " Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Jenkins. By 
 the way! Man of your name down in Boston, had a 
 bad accident awhile ago, and some friends of mine 
 were interested What! You don't mean that you 
 are the same man ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " replied Weston.
 
 166 THE STAKE 
 
 " Well, this is a strange meeting. I've heard Mrs. 
 Carson tell about you, and Dr. Stewart was talking 
 about you only the day before yesterday. I thought 
 you were in the hospital." 
 
 " I was until yesterday. My friend, Mr. Rankin, 
 persuaded me to come up here with him." 
 
 " Thought a leetle salt air an' country cookin* 'ud do 
 him good," remarked Rankin, offering Travis a chair. 
 
 Weston seated himself again in the farthest corner 
 of the room, determined to be a listener, and to take 
 as little part as possible in the conversation. Mean- 
 while, Travis, with diplomatic skill offered his first at- 
 tentions to the ladies. After reminding Mrs. Guilford 
 that it was a beautiful evening, he turned to Mrs. 
 Briggs, and remarked with the air of an old acquaint- 
 ance: 
 
 " And how have you been since I last saw you, Mrs. 
 Weston?" 
 
 The widow sat upright with a startled look, and 
 gasped. Mrs. Guilford politely hid her smile behind 
 her handkerchief, but the squire, with a loud guffaw, 
 cried out: 
 
 " Hey ! Stranger ! Yer off yer bearin's there. Yer 
 talkin' t' th' Widder Briggs." 
 
 " Briggs ? " exclaimed Travis, in surprise. " I un- 
 derstood the lady to say, when I was here a few weeks 
 ago, that she was the widow of the late Mr. Richard 
 Weston." 
 
 " I never said so," piped Mrs. Briggs at the top of 
 her shrill voice. " True an' honest, Mis' Guilford, I 
 never said nothin' o' th' kind."
 
 THE STAKE 567 
 
 The woman appeared so abashed before the accusing 
 looks of the squire and his wife, that Travis hastened 
 to interpose. 
 
 " My mistake," he said. " When you spoke of Mr. 
 Weston's widow, I naturally assumed that you were 
 the lady in question." 
 
 " See here, stranger ! " laughed Guilford. " Yer git- 
 tin' tangled wuss'n ever. Dick Weston never hed no 
 widder, 'cause fer th' reason he never hed no wife." 
 
 Travis looked at the speaker blankly, and then did 
 the only thing he could under the circumstances. He 
 joined in the laugh, with the remark, that he " was cer- 
 tainly very stupid to so misunderstand her," while Mrs. 
 Briggs in her discomfiture, hastily left the room, fol- 
 lowed by Mrs. Guilford. 
 
 " I was here at the time," continued Travis, " looking 
 for a young man named Dick Weston, who lived on an 
 island not far from here. When I heard that a man 
 of the same name lived in this house, naturally I sup- 
 posed there was some relationship between them." 
 
 " They were related," interrupted Weston. 
 
 " Oh, you knew him, did you ? " inquired Travis, 
 turning to the new speaker. 
 
 " Yes. The man who lived here was my uncle. The 
 other man was his nephew." 
 
 "Ah! Then you are a relative. Perhaps you can 
 tell me where the younger Richard Weston is now ? " 
 
 " He came here soon after his uncle's death," replied 
 Dick, " stayed a few days, and then disappeared. Isn't 
 that so, Squire? You were here at the time." 
 
 " Yes. Oh, yes ! That's th' way of it," stammered
 
 168 THE STAKE 
 
 the squire in some confusion. He was not sure what 
 all the mystery was about, but he was bound to stand 
 by his friends. 
 
 Indeed, Dick Weston himself hardly knew the rea- 
 son for his efforts to mislead and confuse this very 
 gentlemanly young fellow a man of his own age, 
 and apparently an agreeable companion. Perhaps it 
 was the unpleasant memory of the association of his 
 name with Louise Ellsworth ; perhaps it was the desire 
 to obtain a technical advantage by discovering the man's 
 purpose, before he revealed his identity. 
 
 " I have been trying to trace your relative," added 
 Travis, " and thought I had found him. By the way, 
 Mr. Rankin, do you know a Mrs. Foster?" 
 
 " Nope. Don't recollect any pusson o' thet name." 
 
 " She keeps a boarding-house in Boston, and " 
 
 " Oh ! You mean the place " 
 
 Rankin paused in some embarrassment, uncertain of 
 the extent of Travis's knowledge, and fearful of betray- 
 ing Dick. 
 
 " The place where Dick Weston boarded," said that 
 young gentleman, finishing the response to the lawyer's 
 inquiry. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Travis, again turning to Weston. " Then 
 you knew where he lived. Perhaps you can tell me 
 where he is now." 
 
 " Perhaps I could," responded Weston. " But first 
 I would like to know why you are seeking him." 
 
 " In the interest of my client, Senator Ellsworth," 
 was the prompt response. Then observing that Rankin 
 and the squire had stolen from the room, he added :
 
 THE STAKE 169 
 
 " This man, Weston your cousin, I suppose per- 
 formed some service for the senator; in fact, advanced 
 some money for him, under peculiar circumstances. 
 The senator is very anxious to cancel the debt. It's a 
 simple business matter. Nothing at all mysterious 
 about it." 
 
 " Pardon my curiosity," said Weston. " Would you 
 mind telling me the nature of the service for which 
 your client feels under obligation ? " 
 
 Travis studied the speaker's face intently for a mo- 
 ment, as he recalled Dr. Stewart's remarks about his 
 singular patient, and his suspicion that he was other 
 than he really seemed. With professional alertness, 
 he watched for some betrayal by word or sign, and, 
 meanwhile, with an air of indifference, he remarked : 
 
 " There's no secret about it. You must have read 
 of it in the papers. Your friend, Dick Weston, aided a 
 young lady in distress Senator Ellsworth's daughter. 
 She was in a shipwreck, and he had something to do 
 with helping her to shore, and paid her railroad fare 
 home. Naturally, she and her father are anxious to 
 return what they owe him, and also give him some suit- 
 able reward for his services." 
 
 " What value in money " said Weston in a low, 
 tense voice. " What value in money did Miss Ells- 
 worth place upon his services ? " 
 
 " Oh," replied Travis. " No amount was stated. It 
 was left to me to settle." 
 
 " How about five dollars ? " inquired Weston. 
 
 " Five dollars would certainly be a satisfactory set- 
 tlement for my client, if that will satisfy Mr. Weston."
 
 i;o THE STAKE 
 
 Travis spoke with studied indifference as he watched 
 the pale, set face of the man before him. 
 
 Weston turned to the desk and wrote upon a piece of 
 paper : 
 
 "Received from Miss Louise Ellsworth five dollars 
 in full payment for my services. 
 
 " RICHARD ELROY WESTON." 
 
 " Please give this to Miss Ellsworth," he said, hand- 
 ing the paper to Travis. 
 
 The lawyer read it through carefully, slightly raised 
 his eyebrows, folded the receipt and put it in his pocket. 
 
 "Very well, Mr. Weston," he said. "And here's 
 your five dollars." 
 
 Weston hesitated a moment, and then taking the bill 
 from the lawyer's hand, he said with a forced laugh : 
 
 " Travis, you're a cool one. You knew me all the 
 time." 
 
 " No. I only suspected." 
 
 " Well, you've accomplished your mission. Miss 
 Ellsworth need suffer no further anxiety on account of 
 any fancied obligation to me." 
 
 The two men rose to their feet, and the lawyer held 
 out his hand. 
 
 " Good night, Mr. Weston. I expect to spend a few 
 days' vacation in this lovely spot, and may have the 
 pleasure of meeting you again."
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 WHEN Louise Ellsworth and Mrs. Carson, accom- 
 panied by Dick, arrived at the station, they were 
 vexed to find that a new schedule had placed the time 
 of departure of the morning train for the north, a half- 
 hour later than usual. 
 
 " There ought to be some law against changing time- 
 tables so often," exclaimed Mrs. Carson indignantly. 
 
 " Very sorry, Madam," replied the courteous official. 
 " The new schedule was advertised all last week, and 
 went into effect only yesterday." 
 
 " But no one reads the time-tables, and I'm sure if I 
 did, I couldn't make them out," continued the pretty 
 widow, illogically. 
 
 She had yielded to Louise's persistent teasing, and 
 had consented to accompany her to Atherton's Cove, as 
 companion and chaperon. 
 
 " I am sure I shall die of ennui," she had said. " But 
 if it will be any gratification to you, dear, I am willing 
 to make the sacrifice." 
 
 " You are just lovely, Belle," replied Louise. " Per- 
 haps a day will be enough for me. It is curiosity as 
 much as anything which takes me there. I may find 
 nothing of interest." 
 
 " When you get an idea in that romantic brain of 
 yours," said Mrs. Carson, " it's hard to displace it. It's
 
 172 THE STAKE 
 
 a strange freak of yours to want to find this man. In 
 some girls it would seem foolish, but I know your fan- 
 tastic sentiments of justice and honor and that sort of 
 thing. My only excuse for consenting to this mad ex- 
 cursion, is that I may disabuse your mind, and do you 
 and your family a real service." 
 
 A reluctant consent is sometimes as good as a ready 
 one, so Louise had lost no time in making her prepara- 
 tions, with the result that they arrived in haste at the 
 station, only to find that they had a full half -hour to 
 wait. 
 
 The most annoying feature of railroad travel is the 
 tedious waiting for the arrival or departure of trains. 
 When once we are started on our journey, delays, 
 though often inconvenient, are not so exasperating as 
 the tiresome time spent in a station, with a crowd of 
 grumblers, watching the clock, and demanding the latest 
 information from officials, whose patience is rarely ap- 
 preciated. 
 
 Mrs. Carson had embarked upon this expedition with 
 so little enthusiasm, that this first hitch in the pro- 
 gramme irritated her usually placid disposition. Her 
 tone became resentful and pettish. Louise, on the con- 
 trary, was disposed to make fun of the delay and her 
 friend's ill-humor. 
 
 " Come, dear ! " she said. " Let's go outside. It's 
 so noisy and smelly in here. Come, Dicky ! You and 
 I will go, and mamma will have to follow." 
 
 Out on the broad walk in front of the station, they 
 strolled up and down, while Dicky's merry prattle, and 
 Louise's fresh spirits soon drove all the bad humor out
 
 THE STAKE 173 
 
 of Mrs. Carson's mind, leaving her as unruffled and 
 sweet-natured as ever. 
 
 " Louise," she said with a twinkle in her eye, 
 after they had passed and repassed the entrance to 
 the depot several times, " either you or I have made 
 a new conquest. Don't turn your head. Standing 
 near the main door of the depot are two men who 
 have been eyeing us as we passed them, and appar- 
 ently trying to attract our attention. I think I'll re- 
 tire and leave the field to you." 
 
 Louise could not resist a side glance in the direction 
 indicated, and observed two very odd-looking indi- 
 viduals who seemed to be watching her closely. One 
 of them, a thick-set man with bushy red whiskers, 
 nodded to her familiarly, and his mouth expanded into 
 a broad grin, which, with a bright twinkle in his eye, 
 brought back to Louise's memory the gallant captain 
 of the Mary Boyle. With an exclamation of sur- 
 prise and pleasure, she went towards him with out- 
 stretched hand. 
 
 " Captain Appleby ! How glad I am to see you 
 again." 
 
 " So be I t' see yew," replied the captain, giving 
 her hand a vigorous squeeze. 
 
 " Let me introduce my friend, Mrs. Carson," said 
 Louise, beckoning that lady to her side. " Belle, this 
 is Captain Appleby who saved my life." 
 
 " There now, Miss, asking yer pardon, ye're wrong. 
 It was Bill here as done th' savin'. Ladies, make ye 
 'quainted with my fust mate, Bill Jenkins." 
 
 Bill, who appeared to be in distress, both on account
 
 174 THE STAKE 
 
 of an embarrassment of ladies, and also on account of 
 a new suit of clothes, including a high collar, scraped 
 his right foot, touched his hat, and gazed intently at 
 the cornice of the building opposite. 
 
 " Jenkins ! " exclaimed both ladies at once, while 
 Dicky, looking on in disgust, was heard to remark: 
 
 "Oh! What a fib!" 
 
 " Did I understand that your name is Bill Jenkins ? " 
 inquired Mrs. Carson. 
 
 " Yes, mom." 
 
 " That's strange. I know a young gentleman of the 
 same name. Have you a son, Mr. Jenkins ? " 
 
 " No, mom." 
 
 After which conversational effort, he eased his neck 
 from the tyranny of the collar, and wiped his moist 
 brow with a new red silk handkerchief. 
 
 " Bill never lied no kin," remarked Captain Ap- 
 pleby, apologetically. " 'Cept o' course his mother. 
 The ol' lady lives 'bout forty mile up this 'ere rail- 
 road. He tried to git her t' come down t' Boston, 
 but she wouldn't do it. So, he's goin' up t' see her, 
 ef th' railroad ever gits him there. Be yew goin' on this 
 road?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Louise, looking at her watch. " The 
 train leaves in ten minutes, so we'll have to get aboard 
 soon. Here's my card, Captain Appleby, with my ad- 
 dress. I hope some time you will call and meet my 
 father and mother. They want to see you and thank 
 you for your kindness to me. And you, too, Mr. 
 Jenkins. I've not forgotten that it was you who came 
 to my rescue."
 
 THE STAKE 175 
 
 " Arter yer young man, Miss," said Bill. " He done 
 th' most." 
 
 " Yes," exclaimed the captain. " We mustn't fer- 
 git him. I never seen a man work as he did. How 
 is he ? Ev'rythin' all fixed up atween ye ? Eh ? " 
 
 He chuckled and grinned in a knowing way, and 
 even ventured a wink, expressive of a secret under- 
 standing. 
 
 " You refer to Mr. Weston ? " said Louise, blush- 
 ing furiously, and trying to speak with indifference. 
 " I haven't seen him since the day we left the ship. 
 We were strangers, you know." 
 
 The captain stared blankly and turned with a sheep- 
 ish expression on his face, towards Bill, who nodded 
 his head complacently, and said: 
 
 "Wot did I tell ye!" 
 
 " I'll own up, I was fooled," remarked the captain, 
 shaking his head. " I was fer havin' it ye was sweet- 
 hearts, an' Bill was bettin' ye wan't. It wan't so much 
 yew as it was the young feller as fooled me. Any- 
 body would ha' thought he was clean gone. So he give 
 ye th' slip, did he? Waal, I think a sight less of him 
 fer it." 
 
 Mrs. Carson, who was enjoying the captain's story, 
 and her friend's embarrassment, here interposed with 
 a reminder that it was time to take the train, and 
 Louise, glad to escape any further sentimental rem- 
 iniscences on the part of the captain, said good-by, 
 followed her friend into the station, and entered the 
 parlor car. 
 
 " I quite admire your friend, Bill Jenkins," remarked
 
 176 THE STAKE 
 
 Mrs. Carson, after the porter had disposed of the 
 various pieces of luggage, and they were comfortably 
 seated. " Isn't it odd that you should have been saved 
 by one Bill Jenkins, and Dicky by another." 
 
 " Yes," replied Louise. " Are they at all alike ? " 
 
 " My Bill Jenkins was a perfick gentleman," re- 
 marked Dicky, withdrawing his face for a moment 
 from the open window. " Martha said so." 
 
 With which authoritative statement, he returned to 
 the panorama caused by the moving train. 
 
 " Which infers," said his mother, laughing, " that 
 your Mr. Jenkins doesn't come up to the standard fixed 
 by Martha." 
 
 " He's a brave, honest fellow," replied Louise. " A 
 little rough, perhaps, but good hearted. One tiling is 
 sure, he saved my life." 
 
 " He very modestly gave the other man credit for 
 it," said Mrs. Carson. " Tell me how it all happened, 
 Louise. I've heard so many versions of the story, I'd 
 like to have the facts." 
 
 " It isn't easy for me to tell it," replied Louise, gaz- 
 ing pensively out of the window. " My memory is 
 rather confused as to the events of those three days." 
 
 " I know about the dreadful time you had when the 
 Ellisons and the rest of the party were lost," continued 
 Mrs. Carson, " and I have been told about your trying 
 experiences with that man on his island. By the way, 
 Louise, what kind of a man was he? I've heard him 
 described as a wild creature; a sort of a hermit or 
 recluse." 
 
 Louise laughed heartily.
 
 THE STAKE 177 
 
 " I think mamma must have started that story. Her 
 imagination pictured all kinds of terrors, in which poor 
 Mr. Crusoe figured as some ogre or demon. To tell 
 the truth, I can say with Dicky; he was a perfect 
 gentleman." 
 
 "How old was he?" 
 
 "About twenty-five, I should say." 
 
 "Tall?" 
 
 " Yes. Nearly six feet." 
 
 "Handsome?" 
 
 Louise hesitated, and then replied with a little 
 nervous laugh: 
 
 " I suppose some people would call him handsome." 
 
 " You are provokingly reticent. One would think 
 that you were more interested in him than you care to 
 admit." 
 
 " There is nothing to conceal," replied Louise. " I 
 have said very little about the adventure, because I 
 knew I should be misunderstood." 
 
 She rested her head against the back of the seat, 
 closed her eyes, and tried to recall the scenes of those 
 three eventful days. As her memory brought back 
 the picture of the lonely island and the man who had 
 been her companion there, she told the story to her 
 friend. It seemed to be a relief to her to confide to 
 this woman, only a few years her senior, many inci- 
 dents and impressions, which, up to this time, she had 
 hesitated to tell even to her mother. 
 
 Mrs. Carson listened with parted lips and sparkling 
 eyes, as Louise related the story of her rescue, of the 
 unavoidable intimacy of the life in the cabin, of the
 
 i;8 THE STAKE 
 
 delicate courtesy and solicitous attention which the un- 
 known stranger had shown her, all this she told with- 
 out embellishment, but in a voice which frequently 
 trembled with emotion. When she came to the story 
 of the experience in the boat, she shuddered and the 
 tears came into her eyes. 
 
 " Oh, it was terrible ! I thought each moment would 
 be the last, and the worst of it was, I knew that my 
 own obstinacy had brought us into such a plight. You 
 can't imagine how he had to work, now at the tiller, now 
 at the mast, now springing to one side to balance the 
 boat, and between times bailing, bailing, bailing,- while 
 the sea poured in as fast as he dipped it out. Through 
 it all he kept calling to me, and once I heard him laugh 
 aloud. Just before my senses left me, he came to 
 my side and tried to rouse me; then I seemed to be 
 falling into space and to hear him calling my name; 
 then everything became blank. When, at last, I opened 
 my eyes, I saw his face bending over me, and heard 
 him say, ' We are saved.' The- next thing I knew, I 
 was lying in the bunk in the schooner, with Captain 
 Appleby and Mr. Weston standing by my side." 
 
 She stopped and brushed the tears hastily from her 
 eyes, and, turning to her companion, she exclaimed 
 with a forced laugh : 
 
 " I declare, Belle ! You have inveigled me into 
 telling you this harrowing and romantic tale, when 
 I had firmly resolved never to betray it to anyone. 
 Most people are inclined to make fun of such an ex- 
 perience, or to start idle gossip from it. It was all 
 too real for me to spread it out for the gaping public
 
 THE STAKE 179 
 
 to feast upon. Put yourself in my place, Belle, and 
 you will understand how I feel about it." 
 
 Mrs. Carson, whose eyes were blinking with emo- 
 tion and sympathy, took Louise's hand in hers, and said 
 earnestly : 
 
 " Louise Ellsworth ! If I had been in your place, I 
 should have fallen desperately in love with that man." 
 
 " With whom ? Mr. Crusoe ? " inquired Louise 
 saucily. But her cheeks were very red and she sud- 
 denly found something to attract her attention out of 
 the window. 
 
 " With Mr. Weston." 
 
 " Oh ! My acquaintance with Mr. Weston was lim- 
 ited to a very formal introduction. Besides, Mr. Wes- 
 ton has disappeared." 
 
 " Do you suppose I am foolish enough to think you 
 are going to Atherton's Cove, for an outing only ? You 
 know you are going to try to find some trace of this 
 man." 
 
 "Well, what if I am?" cried Louise defiantly. "Is 
 it any breach of decorum, if I try to show one spark 
 of gratitude to the man who saved my life; who pro- 
 tected me and cared for me when I was helpless and 
 alone? No one else will do it. Mr. Travis professed 
 to be trying to find him, but only the other night I over- 
 heard papa tell him to give up the search, and devote 
 his time to some other work hunting, I suppose, for 
 that poor fellow whose land they are trying to get. 
 Now, Belle, dear, please don't get any romantic notions 
 in your head. Mr. Weston may be married or engaged 
 for all I know. If I thought you believed me capable
 
 i8o THE STAKE 
 
 of deliberate man-hunting, I would go home by the 
 next train." 
 
 " You haven't told me yet if he is handsome," said 
 Mrs. Carson. 
 
 " He was not unattractive," replied Louise re- 
 luctantly. 
 
 " Did he do you think oh, Louise ! Do you sup- 
 pose that he is in love with you ? " 
 
 " Belle Carson, you would try the patience of a saint. 
 What a ridiculous question." 
 
 She crossed over and sat beside Dicky, putting her 
 arm about him, and her head beside his at the open 
 window. 
 
 " What's the name of this station, Dicky ? " 
 
 " New York," was the prompt response. 
 
 " Oh, no. It can't be New York." 
 
 "If you knowed what it was, you shouldn't have 
 asked me," pouted Dicky. 
 
 " But I don't know." 
 
 " Then maybe it is New York." 
 
 " It's good-by town, now," she said, as the train 
 started. 
 
 During the remainder of the journey, Louise avoided 
 all reference to the former conversation, and Mrs. Car- 
 son, still unconvinced as to the true state of affairs, 
 kept her own counsel, and bided her time. 
 
 It was with a feeling of relief that they finally alighted 
 from the train, even though it left them upon the bar- 
 ren and inhospitable platform of Oldfield station. The 
 agent, constrained by the presence of ladies to retain 
 the regulation coat and cap, perspiringly rolled the heavy
 
 THE STAKE 181 
 
 trunks to the rear of the building, where Guilford and 
 his stage already awaited passengers for Atherton's 
 Cove. 
 
 " Two women an' a boy," he remarked to the squire, 
 as he assisted him with the trunks. " An' thet's all. 
 This way, ladies ! Here, sonny, yew c'n set in front with 
 th' square. Now, ma'am, ef yew'll jes' step in th' mid- 
 dle seat. There ! All right, Square ! Good-by ! " 
 
 "Good-by, Ab!" 
 
 The stage rattled down the road, and while the two 
 ladies were enjoying the fresh air, and the country 
 scenes, Dicky proceeded to establish an acquaintance 
 with the squire. 
 
 "Is your name square?" he inquired, looking up 
 earnestly into the weather-beaten face of the driver. 
 
 " Square it is, 's sure's you're alive," was the reply. 
 " My father was straight, an' my mother was right, an' 
 so I'm square. Do ye see ? Eh ? " 
 
 Back of the homely visage there could be seen the 
 twinkling of humor, and the boy knew instinctively that 
 he had found a boon companion. 
 
 " Do you always talk to your horses ? " inquired 
 Dicky. 
 
 " Yes, sir ! We visit back an' forth consid'ble. Th' 
 trouble is, they don't say much 'cept ' neigh, neigh.' " 
 
 '' Do you allow little boys to drive them, ever?" 
 
 " I'd love to let ye do it," replied the squire in a 
 low, hoarse voice, "but ef them hosses sh'd happen t' 
 look 'raound, an' find out thet I hed let somebody else 
 drive 'em, I don't know what they'd do. It might break 
 their hearts."
 
 182 THE STAKE 
 
 Dicky looked at the sensitive animals with solemn 
 sympathy. 
 
 " Say, Mr. Square ! " he said. " Do you want me 
 to tell you a story ? " 
 
 " De-lighted ! " exclaimed the squire, smiling good- 
 humoredly. 
 
 " Dicky, don't bother the driver," cried Mrs. Car- 
 son. 
 
 " He's no bother, ma'am," said Guilford, chuckling to 
 himself. 
 
 " Well," began Dick. " Once upon a time there was 
 a boy, and he was walkin' along, an' walkin' along, an' 
 he came to a big lion." 
 
 " Whew ! " interrupted the squire. " Thet must ha* 
 scairt him awful ! " 
 
 " Yep ! He was awful scared, an' he ran, an' he ran 
 as fast as he could, an' the lion ran after him, roaring 
 like a like a lion. An' by 'm by the boy ran into 
 a cave, and when he came to the end of the cave, of 
 course he couldn't go any farther." 
 
 " No, of course he couldn't ! " said the squire. " So 
 I suppose th' lion et him up." 
 
 " No, he didn't. When the boy found he couldn't go 
 any farther, he turned around, and there was the lion 
 right behind him with his mouth open wide, ready to 
 eat him. An' what do you s'pose the boy did ? " 
 
 " I don't know. Tell me quick." 
 
 " Well ! " said Dicky, deliberately, enjoying the look 
 of anxious terror on the squire's face. " That boy 
 jumped right down the lion's throat, an' grabbed his tail, 
 an' just turned him inside out, as quick as scat."
 
 THE STAKE 183 
 
 " Fer th' land's sake ! " exclaimed the squire, beaming 
 with pleasure. " Ye don't say he did that ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir! An' the lion had a awful time getting 
 hisself straight again." 
 
 " Thet's th' best story I've heerd, sence I was a boy," 
 said the squire. " Where'd you git it? " 
 
 " Bill Jenkins told it to me." 
 
 "Bill Jenkins?" 
 
 " Yes. Not the sailor-man. The other one that I 
 pretty near killed." 
 
 " Oh ! That one ! " replied the squire, blankly, and 
 then sat for a time in silence. 
 
 Dicky, delighted with everything he saw, was bub- 
 bling over with exclamations and questions, to which 
 the ladies paid little attention, while the squire, absorbed 
 in some deep contemplation, responded somewhat inco- 
 herently. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Square ! " cried the boy. " Look quick ! 
 There are two cows with their necks tied together." 
 
 " Yoke o' steers," said the squire, 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " Fer haulin'." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 A hen with her brood of chickens scurrying out of 
 the road, brought forth a peal of laughter. A couple 
 of grunting, squealing pigs thrust their noses through 
 a barn-yard fence, and, in response to the boy's shrill 
 yell, turned tail and ran clumsily away. A meadow- 
 lark sang from the waving grass. A brown thrush 
 darted into the bush by the roadside. From fence- 
 post and overhanging limb, the blackbird warbled his
 
 184 THE STAKE 
 
 flute-like notes. It was a perfect June day, and the 
 joyfulness of all nature entered into Dicky's heart. 
 
 " Oh ! I wish I could live in the country," he cried. 
 
 " They's wuss places," remarked Squire Guilford, 
 eyeing the boy with an amused expression on his face. 
 " Say, sonny ! Who'd ye say told ye th' story 'baout 
 th' lion?" 
 
 " Bill Jenkins. He was the man who stayed at our 
 house while he was sick." 
 
 " To be sure. Was it measles he hed? Or whoopin' 
 cough ? " 
 
 " No. Just sick. You see, he got hurted I tried 
 to get my ball but it was Aunt Louise's coachman 
 she felt pretty near as bad as mamma that's why he 
 stayed at our house 'til he was better." 
 
 " Driver, how much farther is it ? " interrupted Mrs. 
 Carson. 
 
 " 'Baout a mile mile an' a half. Ye c'n see th' vil- 
 lage from th' top o' th' next hill." 
 
 As they reached the crest of the ridge, Guilford 
 reined in his horses as usual, in order to give his pas- 
 sengers an opportunity to enjoy the famous view. It 
 was characteristic of the two ladies that the one went 
 into ecstasies, and exclaimed loudly over the beauty of 
 the scene, while the other enjoyed it with silent de- 
 light. 
 
 " Louise, this is perfectly charming. Why didn't we 
 know of it before? It's a grand discovery; a new re- 
 sort. Is there a good hotel here, driver ? " 
 
 " Fair t' middlin'." 
 
 " We must make up a party to come here next month.
 
 THE STAKE 185 
 
 Driver, is there a way to get to this place by steamer? " 
 
 " No, ma'am. Not reg'lar. Too many rocks an' 
 shoals." 
 
 " Are any of those islands we see inhabited? " asked 
 Louise. 
 
 " Islands ! They's mostly rocks. Can't nobody live 
 on 'em. I hed a friend oncet, who built a cabin on one 
 of 'em. You see thet one lyin' low ag'in th' horizon. 
 Thet's th' place. He was a queer chap, was Dick." 
 
 " Why, that's my name ! " cried Dicky. 
 
 " You don't say so ! " replied the squire, starting up 
 as from a reverie. Then gathering the reins, he cried : 
 
 " G' lang, there ! We've got t' be a-movin'." 
 
 The jolting of the stage as it rattled down the rocky 
 road, towards the village, prevented any further con- 
 versation, until, as they drew up in front of the hotel, 
 Dicky ventured to ask one more question. 
 
 " What was your Dick's other name ? " 
 
 " Eh ! " said the squire. " What's yours? " 
 
 " Dick Carson." 
 
 " His was Dick Weston." 
 
 " How funny. Is he a boy like me ? " 
 
 " No, my son. He's dead, an' gone t' heaven." 
 
 Louise, who had heard the conversation, gave a low 
 cry, and turned a scared white face towards Mrs. Car- 
 sen. 
 
 " Oh ! Can it be possible that he is dead ? " she said 
 in a plaintive voice. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," said the squire, as he assisted Mrs. 
 Carson to alight from the stage. " He died last April, 
 in th' sixty-ninth year of his age. Now, Miss ! You're
 
 186 THE STAKE 
 
 next. Don't be scairt. Jes' lean on me. Why, you're 
 all of a-tremble. There ye are! Here, Dave, take 
 these bags, an' come back an' help me with th' trunks." 
 
 " This is an unexpected pleasure," cried a familiar 
 voice. 
 
 The two ladies turned in surprise. 
 
 " Ned Travis ! " exclaimed Mrs. Carson. 
 
 " At your service," replied that young gentleman, 
 smiling serenely.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 (C'VT'E'LL find him settin' on th' front stoop," said 
 * Mrs. Briggs in response to Travis's inquiry, as 
 he politely held open the gate for her. " He's been 
 kind o' poorly lately. Hed a bad accident daown in 
 Boston. We thought 'twould do him good up here, 
 but he ain't feelin' right t'day, kind o' mopish, an' out 
 o' sorts." 
 
 " You must try to cheer him up, Mrs. Briggs," said 
 Travis. 
 
 " Oh ! I can't do nothin' with him," confided the 
 widow, with a shake of her head. " I ain't goin' t' 
 push myself in where I ain't wanted. They was times 
 when I seemed t' be able t' comfort his uncle, but this 
 one is different." 
 
 She gazed mournfully down the street, torn by con- 
 flicting desires to reach Simpson's store before it closed, 
 and to remain where she could learn something of the 
 purpose of Travis's call. 
 
 It was the evening after the arrival of Miss Ellsworth 
 and her companion, and Travis, after assuring himself 
 that they were provided with the best rooms in the 
 house, and that he could be of no further service to 
 them, had started out after supper, to renew his acquaint- 
 ance with Dick Weston, and incidentally to begin di- 
 rect operations for the capture of the Michigan land.
 
 i88 THE STAKE 
 
 He had not been idle during the day. The absence of 
 rail and telegraph made it difficult for him to communi- 
 cate with the outside world, but the same conditions 
 also prevented others from disturbing him in his secret 
 campaign. He congratulated himself that he had a 
 clear field. A telephone line to the county seat en- 
 abled him to learn the contents of the will of the elder 
 Weston. Letters to Wayne, and Ellsworth, informed 
 them that he had run his man to earth, and that another 
 day would probably see the deal closed. 
 
 The long June evening was still bright with the reflec- 
 tion of the setting sun, as he sauntered up the village 
 street, mildly interested in the groups of neighbors, vis- 
 iting over gates, or the fresh-cheeked country girls, 
 dressed in pretty white muslins, who glanced slyly at 
 the stylish young city-bred gentleman, and giggled bash- 
 fully as he smilingly raised his hat to them. 
 
 The object of his expedition the one great absorb- 
 ing thought of his waking and sleeping hours for the past 
 three weeks drove out of his mind all more frivolous 
 thoughts. He made no pause or delay until he arrived 
 at the gate which opened into the broad walk, leading 
 away from the dusty street, back through a cool vista 
 of overhanging elm and clustering lilac-bushes to where 
 stood the substantial and attractive home of six gen- 
 erations of the Weston family. 
 
 "Has he always lived here?" inquired Travis, ob- 
 serving the widow's inclination to linger, and not averse 
 to getting information from a source so willing to yield 
 it. 
 
 " Who ? Young Mr. Weston ? Land, no ! Never
 
 THE STAKE 189 
 
 lived here at all. He jes' come here arter his uncle 
 died, t' git th' prop'ty. Never paid no attention to his 
 uncle, while he was livin', but jes' 's soon's he died, up 
 he come. Th' ways of th' Lord are hard to under- 
 stand." 
 
 She sighed and drew her black silk cape close about 
 her narrow shoulders. 
 
 " Was there much property ? " asked Travis, trying 
 to appear sympathetic. 
 
 " Consid'ble. Th' haouse an' th' farm," she said with 
 a tone of regret in her voice. " Then they was bank 
 stock an' notes." 
 
 " Any other land beside the farm ? " 
 
 " None t' speak of. They was an island out a piece 
 from shore. Ye c'n see it from th' hill. Jest a big 
 rock, an' good fer nothin'. I heerd 'em say sunthin' 
 'baout some wuthless land aout in th' West some'eres." 
 
 " I'm afraid I'm detaining you," said Travis, willing 
 to terminate the interview. 
 
 " Waal, t' tell th' truth, I hev got an errand t' do, 
 an' it's gittin' late, so if you'll excuse me, I b'lieve I'll 
 hev t' go." 
 
 " Sorry you can't stay," said Travis, disregarding the 
 truth, and lifting his hat politely. 
 
 Mrs. Briggs tilted her head upon one side, and pro- 
 duced her most engaging expression of countenance, 
 which consisted in stretching her closed lips to their 
 fullest extent, and squinting her eyes to their narrow- 
 est limits. Then with a little mincing gait, she went on 
 down the street, leaving Travis smiling thoughtfully, as 
 he turned towards the house.
 
 190 THE STAKE 
 
 " Good evening, Weston," cried he, familiarly, as he 
 approached the broad porch where that young gentle- 
 man sat alone, apparently engrossed in deep thought. 
 " I heard that you were not feeling well, so I thought 
 I would run in and see how you were getting along." 
 
 Weston greeted his guest courteously, but without 
 enthusiasm, and ignoring his inquiry, invited him to 
 take a seat. 
 
 Undaunted by the coolness of his reception, Travis 
 plunged into general conversation, with such ease and 
 good humor, that Weston was forced out of his depres- 
 sion, and compelled to join in with his mood. 
 
 " This is a delightful place to spend a month or two 
 of summer," said the young lawyer, " but it must be a 
 desolate place in winter." 
 
 " I can't say as to that," replied Weston. " I've never 
 been here in the winter." 
 
 " That's so. I forgot. So Mrs. Briggs told me just 
 now. I met her at the gate as I came in, and, when I 
 asked if you were home, she spun off a page or two of 
 your family history, and would be talking yet, if I hadn't 
 escaped." 
 
 Weston gave a short laugh. 
 
 " I'm afraid her opinion of me was not very flattering. 
 She was my uncle's housekeeper, and rather resents 
 my being here." 
 
 " I judged from her remarks that she doesn't find you 
 as tractable as the old gentleman," said Travis. 
 
 " My uncle was more patient than I," replied Weston 
 gravely. " He was a man of unusually kind disposi- 
 tion."
 
 THE STAKE 191 
 
 " So I have heard," remarked Travis, quietly. 
 
 For a moment they sat in silence, and there came to 
 each of them a new feeling of respect for the other. 
 Strangers, both interested in the same woman, the one 
 intent on carrying out a deep-laid plan, the other sus- 
 picious of his purpose ; they yet recognized the bond of 
 good-fellowship which draws together men of equal 
 minds, equal breeding, and equal attainments. . 
 
 " By the way, Travis," said Weston, drumming nerv- 
 ously with his fingers on the arm of his chair, " I wish 
 you would do me a favor." 
 
 " With pleasure." 
 
 " You made a discovery last night. For some rea- 
 son, unknown to me, your friend, Mrs. Carson, and 
 and her friends, got an idea that my name was Bill 
 Jenkins. I never told them so. My conscience is clear 
 on that point. But for the present, I would rather not 
 have them learn their mistake. You are the only one 
 who might betray me. I want you to promise to say 
 nothing about it to anyone especially to Miss Ells- 
 worth." 
 
 " All right, I promise," replied Travis with a shrug. 
 " But why Miss Ellsworth in particular ? " and he 
 glanced keenly at Weston. 
 
 Weston looked out and away to where the last rays 
 of the sun touched with crimson the fleecy clouds which 
 floated above the hills. For a moment he did not an- 
 swer, then, turning to his companion, he said : 
 
 " Miss Ellsworth has been disturbed, you know, by 
 her fancied obligation to me. If she knew that I am 
 the same person as the man, Jenkins, for whose injury
 
 I 9 2 THE STAKE 
 
 she blames herself, it might add to her distress. Be- 
 sides, it would embarrass me." 
 
 Travis observed him intently for a moment. 
 
 " Weston," he said, " that must have been a queer 
 experience you had with Miss Ellsworth. I'd like to 
 hear about it. She would never tell anybody the par- 
 ticulars." 
 
 " You'll never learn them from me," replied Weston 
 rudely, and then apologized by saying that there had 
 been too much fuss made about it, and it irritated him 
 to discuss the subject. 
 
 " Let me see," said Travis. " That island was part 
 of the property you inherited from your uncle, wasn't 
 it?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Weston, eyeing him suspiciously. 
 " How did you know that ? " 
 
 " From that fount of all information, Mrs. Briggs. 
 She told me that your uncle was fond of buying out-of- 
 the-way pieces of land of little or no value, just to 
 gratify some whim of his." 
 
 " Yes, he was a lover of solitude, and wanted to with- 
 draw from society at times, and live alone. It was a 
 strange fancy, and yet, do you know, it appeals to me. 
 That's why I went out to the islatid that time, and spent 
 the night there; just to enjoy that very feeling of 
 isolation." 
 
 " I suppose that's why he bought the land out West, 
 that Mrs. Briggs says is worthless. By the way, Wes- 
 ton, where is it? Western lands are up now." 
 
 " This land is up up on the map. Lies in the ex- 
 treme northern part of Michigan. Principally rocks
 
 THE STAKE 193 
 
 and scenery, although Rankin seems to think there may 
 be copper there." 
 
 " Copper ! " exclaimed Travis. " Copper ! Why, 
 man ! It may be worth something, after all. Why 
 don't you offer it for sale ? Copper is in great demand 
 at present." 
 
 " To tell you the truth, I haven't the least idea what 
 it's worth. Rankin has some plan for leasing it to a 
 mining company which is operating on land adjoining 
 it. You must remember that all this came to me like 
 a bolt from the blue, only two months ago, and that 
 since then I have been practically out of commission. 
 Then, too, the estate isn't closed. Guilford is the ex- 
 ecutor of the will. I have given no thought to the mat- 
 ter." 
 
 " I'll tell you what you ought to do, Weston," said 
 Travis eagerly. " You ought to offer the land to the 
 National Copper Co. They are buying up all the prop- 
 erties in that part of the country. They control the 
 situation now, and they're gradually freezing out the 
 smaller companies. I wouldn't lose any time, either. 
 If you're not able to attend to it, turn it over to me, 
 and I can run in to Boston to-morrow, and get their 
 figures." 
 
 In the intensity of his desire to bring to a quick con- 
 clusion the business which had taxed his patience and 
 his skill for the past month, Travis betrayed such un- 
 usual interest in his affairs, that Weston became sus- 
 picious. When the young lawyer had finished, he looked 
 him steadily in the eye, and said : 
 
 " Travis, are you in the employ of the copper trust? "
 
 i 9 4 THE STAKE 
 
 Travis flushed. It was a difficult situation. After a 
 moment's hesitation, he replied : 
 
 " In a sense, yes. That is to say, I " 
 
 " And you came here for the purpose of inducing me 
 to sell this land to your clients?" 
 
 " They would like to buy it, if it's for sale." 
 
 " I suppose you expected to get it from me for a 
 song." 
 
 " No, indeed ! I give you my word, Weston, I had 
 no such intention. I don't know any more than you 
 do what the land is really worth. Nor does anybody, 
 in fact. It's merely a prospect." 
 
 Weston looked at his companion with a frown. 
 
 " As far as I am concerned," he said slowly, " the 
 National Copper Co., or the Copper Trust, or whatever 
 name they use for their purposes, would never have one 
 inch of advantage from me. In fact, I would go out of 
 my way to thwart them, if I could. But, in this par- 
 ticular instance, I'll just turn you over to the tender 
 mercies of Mr. Rankin. You may deal with him. He 
 knows what the land is worth, and I'll give him full au- 
 thority to fix the price and sell to whom he pleases." 
 
 " Can I see him to-night ? " asked Travis, eagerly. 
 
 " I wish you'd put it off until to-morrow. I'll have to 
 explain the matter to him first. To tell you the truth, 
 Travis, this little tilt with you has set my battered head 
 throbbing, and I'll have to quit talking." 
 
 Travis rose immediately, and held out his hand. 
 
 " Pardon my thoughtlessness," he said. " I'll go now, 
 and we'll take this up again to-morrow. I hope, Wes- 
 ton, you haven't put me off your list entirely. I'd be
 
 THE STAKE 195 
 
 sorry to lose your good opinion. I went into this thing 
 professionally, you know. My best efforts always go 
 to the men I am serving, but I always intend to be 
 straight about it." 
 
 " I don't doubt it," replied Weston, rising. " But 
 you'll find it hard work to be honest, and satisfy that 
 gang of wolves." 
 
 " By the way," he added. " I thought you said you 
 came here at Miss Ellsworth's request, to search for 
 me." 
 
 " That was the truth. She commissioned me long 
 ago to hunt for you until I found you." 
 
 " And she told you to pay me money ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! I was to express her gratitude for your 
 kindness. The cash settlement was from her father." 
 
 " Thank you ! " said Weston simply. 
 
 Night was settling fast, and lights were beginning to 
 twinkle here and there, as Travis walked rapidly down 
 the street, pondering deeply over the events of the day, 
 and especially of the last hour. His professional repu- 
 tation and future career were at stake, and yet he found 
 it difficult to reconcile his sense of honor with his duty 
 to his clients. The probing questions of the man he 
 had just left, had challenged his integrity. He knew 
 that, from the standpoint of his well-laid plans, he had 
 made a grievous mistake in admitting the purpose of his 
 visit. Yet there was a certain satisfaction in the thought 
 that he had been fair to Weston, whose strange history 
 and manliness of character appealed strongly to him. 
 
 When he reached the hotel, he paused a moment at 
 the foot of the steps to look at the moon, rising full
 
 196 THE STAKE 
 
 from the depths of the ocean, her great disk framed 
 between the two black headlands which guarded the lit- 
 tle harbor. Impressed by the beauty of the scene, he 
 removed his hat and stood erect, with head and shoul- 
 ders thrown back, as if he would drink in the glory of 
 the streaming light. The noise of a chair, moving on 
 the porch above him, broke the spell, and he looked up 
 to find a woman's face observing him, while a soft voice 
 called down to him : 
 
 " Your pose is delightfully statuesque. You remind 
 me of a Venetian gondolier. Just imagine, if you 
 please, that I am some Italian beauty, and complete 
 the picture by singing a serenade." 
 
 " You play your part to perfection, Mrs. Carson," 
 replied Travis, gallantly. " But, unfortunately, I am a 
 perfect crow in my vocal efforts." 
 
 " I have heard gentlemen of your profession described 
 as birds of another feather," exclaimed the lady, laugh- 
 ing softly. 
 
 " Come, now ! " cried Travis, as he went up the steps 
 and joined her on the piazza. " That ugly suggestion 
 doesn't go with this charming scene. Oh ! Good even- 
 ing, Miss Ellsworth. You're here, too, are you?" 
 
 He brought forward another chair, and lighted a 
 cigar. 
 
 " This is a funny place," he said. " Nearly every- 
 body is a hundred years old. How did you enjoy old 
 Guilford, the stage-driver? Isn't he a remarkable char- 
 acter?" 
 
 " Dicky had him all to himself, and we were not fa- 
 vored," replied Mrs. Carson. " But you haven't told
 
 THE STAKE 197 
 
 us yet how you happen to be staying in this out-of-the- 
 way place." 
 
 " I might retaliate by inquiring what brought you 
 here. I have been smothering my curiosity ever since 
 you arrived. My hints have been ignored. I have even 
 had a suspicion that you might be private detectives, 
 sent to watch my movements. But there is no use in my 
 trying to conceal anything from you. I'm here looking 
 for a man." 
 
 " Have you found him? " asked Louise. 
 
 Travis turned towards her, but her face was in the 
 shadow. 
 
 " Yes, I have found him." 
 
 " Do you mean that you have found Mr. Wes- 
 ton?" 
 
 She was leaning forward now, and in the soft light 
 of the moon, he saw the look of eagerness in her eyes. 
 
 He hesitated a moment. 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Weston!" he said, and then puffed 
 steadily at his cigar for a full minute. 
 
 " Well ! " exclaimed the girl, impatiently. 
 
 " I saw him yesterday," continued Travis, with pro- 
 voking deliberation, " and gave him your message. I 
 asked him what expense he had incurred at the time he 
 assisted you. You know your father was anxious to 
 have the account paid. Well, he insisted that five dol- 
 lars was all you owed him, so I gave him the money and 
 took his receipt." 
 
 He drew from his pocket the slip of paper which 
 Weston had given him, and handed it to Louise. 
 
 " Here it is."
 
 198 THE STAKE 
 
 She took the paper mechanically, a little bewildered 
 by this sudden termination of her quest. Without any 
 definite plan or purpose, her intention had been to see 
 Weston; if possible, to thank him; to renew the ac- 
 quaintance. His indifference piqued her, and, as she 
 thought of the advances she had made, she began to re- 
 gret the impulse which had led her to Atherton's Cove. 
 
 " I'm glad I found the gentleman at last," remarked 
 Travis, carelessly. " It will relieve your mind." 
 
 " I'm much obliged to you," said Louise. " Perhaps 
 it was foolish of me to ask this of you." 
 
 " Don't think for a moment that I regret my ability 
 to serve you," replied Travis in a low voice. " You 
 know, Louise, it was a pleasure for me to do this for 
 you." 
 
 She leaned back in the shadow and was silent. There 
 came to her the memory of that evening when she had 
 asked him to find the man who had saved her life, and 
 the passionate words with which he had accepted the 
 charge. Shivering slightly, she drew a silk scarf about 
 her shoulders. 
 
 " I owe you an apology, Mr. Travis," she said. " I 
 thought you had given up the search. That's why Belle 
 and I came here. I didn't know that you had come 
 ahead of us on the same errand. I understood that you 
 had gone away on some business for my father." 
 
 Travis examined the ash on his cigar, knocked it off 
 on the railing, and said : 
 
 " To tell you the truth, I didn't come here expressly 
 to find Weston, although I have kept him in mind con- 
 stantly."
 
 THE STAKE 199 
 
 " But you said that you came here in search of a 
 man?" 
 
 " Yes, and strange to say, in looking for him, I found 
 Weston." 
 
 He smiled to himself. He was telling the truth, abso- 
 lutely. He was under no obligation to tell of the singu- 
 lar chain of circumstances, which centered in one man 
 the identity of three individuals. Besides, he had prom- 
 ised Weston that he would not betray his secret, and 
 that promise must be kept. 
 
 " Was the other man you were looking for the poor 
 fellow who owns all that copper land, and doesn't know 
 it?" inquired Mrs. Carson, who had been listening idly 
 to the conversation of the others. 
 
 Travis laughed aloud. It was all such a good joke, 
 he was tempted to tell the whole story, but something 
 withheld him ; an indescribable uncertainty as to his 
 standing with Louise Ellsworth. He would not admit 
 the possibility of rivalry on the part of this other man, 
 and yet, Weston was not the obscure fellow he had 
 expected to find. 
 
 " You're a regular sleuth, Mrs. Carson," he said, in 
 reply to her question. " I am discovered. In search- 
 ing for my copper man I found Mr. Weston, and in 
 searching for Mr. Weston, I found my copper man. 
 There you have it. You can read it backward or for- 
 ward, it means the same." 
 
 His ingenious play upon words amused him. He was 
 revealing a secret, but his hearers were none the wiser. 
 His success emboldened him to add to the mystery. 
 
 " By the way, Mrs. Carson," he said, " who do you
 
 200 THE STAKE 
 
 suppose is the owner of the copper land we are trying 
 to buy?" 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know." 
 
 " If I gave you a hundred guesses, you'd never hit on 
 his name." 
 
 " Is he a friend of mine ? " 
 
 " Yes. You certainly have been a friend to him." 
 . " Tell me. I am a failure at guessing riddles." 
 
 " Prepare for a big surprise. The owner of the fa- 
 mous copper land is your former guest, Mr. Bill Jen- 
 kins." 
 
 " Ned Travis ! I believe you're making fun of us. 
 Is this whole story you have been telling us just a fic- 
 tion of your frivolous brain ? " 
 
 " Absolutely true ; every word of it," replied the young 
 gentleman, unable to conceal his self-satisfaction. 
 
 " And do you mean to say that Mr. Jenkins is here ? " 
 
 " The gentleman whom I met here certainly told me he 
 was the Mr. Jenkins you befriended at the time of his 
 accident. You must remember that I was never fa- 
 vored with an introduction to your hero." 
 
 " Then how did you know him ? " 
 
 " I was introduced to him, and very soon learned the 
 truth from his own lips." 
 
 Louise, who had been silent for some time, now rose 
 and declared she was tired and ready to go to her room. 
 Mrs. Carson followed her example, and the two ladies 
 went into the house, leaving the young man to his cigar, 
 and his thoughts, which were of a very self-complacent 
 nature. 
 
 When Louise reached her room, preceded by a sleepy
 
 THE STAKE 201 
 
 chambermaid, carrying a lamp, she discovered that she 
 still held in her hand the scrap of paper which Travis 
 had given her. Opening it and holding it to the light, 
 she read : 
 
 " Received from Miss Louise Ellsworth five dollars in 
 full payment for my services. 
 
 " RICHARD ELROY WESTON." 
 
 She crushed the paper in her hand with an exclama- 
 tion of anger. 
 
 " I was foolish to expect anything more," she mur- 
 mured. " Mr. Crusoe was a dream Mr. Weston is a 
 a reality."
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 NED TRAVIS was a gentleman who never prac- 
 ticed the rule of " early to bed and early to rise." 
 After the ladies had retired, he sat on the piazza of the 
 hotel, with his feet resting on the rail, and there burned 
 incense to the pale moon to the extent of numerous 
 cigars and cigarettes, musing and dreaming late into 
 the night. One by one, guests, clerks, and servants 
 retired, until only one solitary porter remained, who 
 eyed him sleepily from the gloom of the office, where 
 but one lamp cast its sickly ray, sputtering now and 
 then, as if it, too, were blinking with sleep. The clock 
 struck eleven, and Travis lighted another cigar. The 
 intense silence was conducive to clear thought. The 
 soft wash of the waves along the beach steadied his 
 nerves. He blew rings of smoke upward, and watched 
 them fade away in the moonlight. The uncertainty of 
 the game he was playing made it all the more interesting. 
 He had two objects in view. One, to capture for his 
 clients the strategic piece of land, the possession of 
 which was so important in their war against the " Lucky 
 Jack Company " ; the other, to win the hand of Louise 
 Ellsworth. The sequence was logical, for the success 
 of the latter depended largely upon the success of the 
 former. 
 The fact that Louise had given him very little en-
 
 THE STAKE 203 
 
 couragement thus far, did not disturb his plans. He 
 felt confident that he could win her consent in time. 
 
 " There is no one else," he said complacently to him- 
 self, as he flicked the ashes from his cigar. " She has 
 never been interested in anyone." 
 
 He paused a moment in the act of raising his cigar to 
 his lips, and then added : 
 
 " Except this fellow, Weston." 
 
 He smoked a few minutes in deep meditation. 
 
 " She is certainly interested in him," he muttered. 
 " Inclined to be romantic, in fact. It's strange that 
 both of the lines I am following converge in this one 
 man. He might prove dangerous, if he knew the value 
 of his cards. If I were in his shoes, I'd hold up the 
 syndicate for a half million dollars, at least, and they'd 
 pay it, too. As for Louise, if I only had one small 
 fraction of the claim he has upon her gratitude, I'd use 
 it to the limit." 
 
 He was interrupted by a strange noise, which brought 
 him to a realization of his surroundings. He looked 
 about him. The street was deserted; the long piazza 
 was empty ; there was no sound save that strange hoarse 
 groan, which came to his ear with the regularity of 
 heart-beats. He rose and entered the office. In the 
 sputtering, dying light of the lamp, he discovered the 
 vanquished porter, sound asleep in a rocker, his arms 
 hanging helplessly almost to the floor, while his head 
 lolled and nodded awkwardly up and down, keeping 
 clumsy time to the snores which sounded harsh and 
 distressing in the silence of the night. Rousing him 
 with difficulty, Travis obtained a fresh lamp, and retired
 
 204 THE STAKE 
 
 to his room, just as the clock in the office struck 
 twelve. 
 
 It is no wonder then, that the young attorney was the 
 last to enter the breakfast-room on the following morn- 
 ing, or that he should meet Mrs. Carson and her son, 
 just as they were leaving. 
 
 " Good morning, Mrs. Carson ! " he cried. " You 
 don't mean to say that you have finished breakfast ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! Some time ago." 
 
 "And Miss Ellsworth?" 
 
 " Louise didn't come to breakfast. I have advised 
 her to stay in bed. She didn't sleep well last night, and 
 has a bad headache this morning." 
 
 " I'm sorry to hear it. I had planned a sail for to- 
 day," said Travis, as they parted, and he followed a 
 waiter to a seat. 
 
 When he came out on the piazza a half -hour later, he 
 found Master Dicky wandering up and down alone, 
 Mrs. Carson was nowhere to be seen. 
 
 " Hello, kid ! " he cried. " Where's your mother ? " 
 
 " She's gone to see Aunt Louise. I can't go off the 
 piazza. I wish somebody would play with me." 
 
 " All right. What's the game ? " 
 
 " Do you think a little boy is a nuisance ? " 
 
 " No. What put that idea in your head ? " 
 
 " Mamma said so." 
 
 " I'm surprised." 
 
 " She said if you went sailing on the water you 
 wouldn't take me because you would think I was a nui- 
 sance." 
 
 Travis laughed, as he drew the boy up on his knee.
 
 THE STAKE 205 
 
 " Dicky, you're quite a fisherman. If we go sailing, 
 you shall go, too, if your mother will let you." 
 
 At this point in the conversation, Mrs. Carson ap- 
 peared at the door, and Dicky, sliding to the floor, ran 
 to meet her. 
 
 " He says I can go," he cried, dancing up and down 
 around his mother. " He says I'm not a nuisance, and 
 I can go sailing." 
 
 Then turning to Travis, he added : 
 
 " Don't you think it's a good time now, Mr. Travis ? " 
 
 " What does your mother say ? " 
 
 " I don't like to leave Louise, but now that you have 
 made Dicky one of the party, I'll not have a moment's 
 peace, so, if you'll wait until I get my parasol, we'll go 
 out for an hour." 
 
 They walked down to the beach, the boy capering back 
 and forth, and about them, like a frisky colt. As they 
 approached the wharf, he suddenly darted away from 
 them with a whoop, and ran towards a man who was 
 standing talking to " Old Dad," the captain of the minia- 
 ture fleet of sailboats. 
 
 "It's my Bill Jenkins! It's my Bill Jenkins!" he 
 cried. 
 
 Weston, for he it was, turned in surprise, as the boy 
 rushed upon him, and then he raised his hat to Mrs. 
 Carson, who came forward with outstretched hand. 
 
 " Mr. Jenkins ! " she cried. " Is it really you ? " 
 
 Weston turned a look of inquiry upon Travis, who 
 hastened to say : 
 
 " I told Mrs. Carson you were here, but she wouldn't 
 believe me."
 
 206 THE STAKE 
 
 By this time Weston had recovered his self-possession. 
 
 " Yes," he said, " I came up the other day to try a 
 little sea air and the country, for my rather dilapidated 
 constitution. You are the last person I expected to meet 
 in this out-of-the-way place." 
 
 " Did you think you could escape me ? " she asked. 
 " You stole away from Boston so secretly, it almost 
 looked like flight." 
 
 " The opportunity came unexpectedly, and I had only 
 time to tell Dr. Stewart. I intended to call on you be- 
 fore I left, and express my gratitude." 
 
 Mrs. Carson interrupted him with a shake of her 
 head. 
 
 " You've said enough about gratitude. I thought we 
 had agreed that the debt was mutual." 
 
 Dicky, who had listened with impatience to this unin- 
 teresting conversation, here interrupted. 
 
 " Can't Mr. Bill Jenkins go sailin' with us, Mamma ? " 
 
 " Were you going out? " inquired Weston, turning to 
 Travis. 
 
 "Yes. Will you join us?" 
 
 " Thank you. I was just about to go for a sail, my- 
 self. By the way," he added, " I called to see you this 
 morning, but you were not up. I arranged with Rankin 
 to meet you about ten o'clock." 
 
 Travis looked at his watch and frowned. 
 
 " If that's so, I'll have to be excused, Mrs. Carson. 
 A matter of business. It's too bad to let it interfere 
 with our fun. Perhaps Mr. Jenkins will take my place." 
 
 " With pleasure," replied Weston, looking inquir- 
 ingly at Mrs. Carson.
 
 THE STAKE 207 
 
 " I am embarrassed with so many cavaliers," she said, 
 laughing. " But you can see the decision in Dicky's 
 eyes. If I disappoint him this early in the day, I don't 
 know how I will survive until night." 
 
 " Mr. Jenkins will take my place in the boat I or- 
 dered last night," explained Travis to the old skipper, 
 who, all this time, had been looking on in bewilderment. 
 
 " Eh ! " said he, scratching his head. " Who'd ye 
 
 say 
 
 " My name is Jenkins," said Western, looking the old 
 man straight in the eye. 
 
 " All right, sir ! Jes' 's yew say ! " replied Dad, giv- 
 ing a hitch to his trousers, and gazing unconcernedly sea- 
 ward. 
 
 "You will excuse me then, Airs. Carson?" asked 
 Travis. " I'm awfully sorry this has happened. But 
 business, you know " 
 
 " It's all right, Mr. Travis. I'm just as much obliged 
 to you." She gave him a reassuring smile and he turned 
 away. 
 
 While " Dad " was bringing the boat alongside, Wes- 
 ton kept up a lively conversation with Mrs. Carson, al- 
 ways avoiding any reference to their former acquaint- 
 ance, and the strange events which had brought it about. 
 
 " The way to enjoy sailing is to go out for the day, 
 and take your lunch with you," he said. "If you're fond 
 of fishing, there's lots of that kind of sport about here." 
 
 " Oh, I want to fish," cried Dicky. " Mr. Travis said 
 I was a good fisherman." 
 
 " You never fished in your life, you silly boy," laughed 
 his mother.
 
 208 THE STAKE 
 
 " I'll take you out some time," said Weston, " if your 
 mother will let me. I know a fine place. Then you 
 can see how you like it." 
 
 " When can we go ? To-day ? " 
 
 " No ! Let me see. To-morrow, if the weather is 
 right. There! I believe Dad has forgotten the cush- 
 ions. Where are your cushions, Dad ? " he called to 
 the skipper. 
 
 " Left 'em up in th' boathouse, like a durn fool," 
 was the reply from the old sailor, as he clambered on the 
 dock, and drew the boat alongside. 
 
 " I'll get them," said Weston. " Come on, Dicky, 
 and help me." 
 
 " Is this Mr. Jenkins' boat ? " asked Mrs. Carson, as 
 the two disappeared in the little building which served 
 as the skipper's storehouse. 
 
 " Who'd ye say, ma'am? " inquired that worthy, rais- 
 ing his hand to his hat. 
 
 " Mr. Jenkins ! Don't you know him ? I thought 
 perhaps he lived here." 
 
 " Never heerd of oh ! you mean him ? " pointing his 
 thumb in the direction of the boathouse. " No, this 
 ain't his boat. He hed a dory, but it was wracked in 
 th' big storm las' May, out by Roger's Island. He ain't 
 got a new one yit." 
 
 " Wrecked ! " exclaimed Mrs. Carson. " Was any- 
 body in it ? " 
 
 " I don' know. Leastwise we never found out. Mr. 
 Weston, he didn't turn up for so long " 
 
 " Mr. Weston ! " exclaimed Mrs. Carson. " I thought 
 you said that Mr. Jenkins "
 
 THE STAKE 209 
 
 " Oh, Lor' ! " muttered the skipper, as Weston and 
 Dicky appeared with the cushions. 
 
 " Here we are," cried the former. " Now, Mrs. Car- 
 son, if you're ready, we'll make a start." 
 
 He sprang into the boat and held up his arms to her. 
 She hesitated a moment, and looked down into his up- 
 turned face. Then placing her hands upon his shoul- 
 ders, she sprang lightly down beside him. 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Jenkins," she said, with a roguish 
 twinkle in her eyes. " I am just becoming acquainted 
 with you. What has become of the bashful and awk- 
 ward young sailor we picked up in the streets of Bos- 
 ton?" 
 
 He arranged the cushions comfortably for her, and 
 replied with a smile : 
 
 " Your society may have softened a few of his rough 
 manners." 
 
 Dicky was next brought aboard and placed near 
 his mother, who warned him, with the usual maternal 
 anxiety, to sit still, or he would fall overboard and be 
 drowned. Lastly, Dad, giving the boat a shove, sprang 
 into the bow, and hoisted the sail, while Weston took the 
 tiller. 
 
 " Are you going to sail the boat ? " inquired Mrs. Car- 
 son. 
 
 " Of course ! Who else ? " replied Weston. 
 
 " I thought the captain was to manage the helm," she 
 said, indicating Dad by a motion of her head. 
 
 " Not while I'm aboard," declared Weston, as he lifted 
 the boom over her head, and allowed the sail to catch a 
 puff of breeze. " I love to feel the pull of the line, be it
 
 THE STAKE 
 
 a horse or a sail at the other end. Here we go ! Sit 
 still! Don't be afraid!" 
 
 " You handle a boat as if you were used to it," said 
 Mrs. Carson after a brief silence, broken only by ex- 
 clamations from Dicky. 
 
 " Yes, I've sailed boats ever since I was twelve years 
 old." 
 
 " I should think it would be dangerous, sometimes." 
 
 " I suppose it is, but one never thinks of it any more 
 than the danger of riding in cars." 
 
 " Were you ever wrecked ? " 
 
 " Yes. That is to say I yes, you would call it a 
 wreck." 
 
 "Oh! tell me about it," cried Dicky. "Were you 
 cast away on a desert island like Robinson Crusoe? " 
 
 Weston laughed. 
 
 " You have hit on the truth, nearer than you thought, 
 my boy," he said. 
 
 " Oh, please tell me what you did," continued the in- 
 quisitive youngster, and Weston, with reluctance, had to 
 relate some of the incidents of his memorable experience. 
 
 " I was on an island a desert island and there 
 was a big storm. By and by, a ship came along, so I 
 went out in my boat, and the sailors saw me and picked 
 me up." 
 
 " Well, but tell me about how you made clothes out 
 of skins, and how you and Friday righted the cannibals, 
 and then you made a hut to live in, and " 
 
 " This was another kind of a wreck," interrupted Wes- 
 ton, laughing. " There wasn't any Friday nor any can- 
 nibals. We had a good house to stay in, and food to
 
 THE STAKE 211 
 
 eat, and clothes to wear ; so you see it wasn't much of a 
 story, after all." 
 
 Dicky pouted and kicked his heels discontentedly 
 against a locker. 
 
 " I don't think that was a very good shipwreck, with- 
 out any Friday or any cannibals." 
 
 " No, it wasn't, Dicky. I'll try to do better, next 
 time." 
 
 " I notice you said ' we/ so I suppose you had a com- 
 panion/' remarked Mrs. Carson casually. 
 
 " Yes. I had a companion." 
 
 " That made it much pleasanter for you, of course." 
 
 " Yes, of course." 
 
 " Was your friend saved, too ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 She looked at him quizzically. His brief replies to 
 her questions added to her curiosity. The suspicion 
 which had been gradually growing in her mind, suggested 
 such possibilities, that she could not resist a desire to 
 probe into the secret, which he seemed to withhold from 
 her. 
 
 " By the way," she said, " do you happen to know a 
 Mr. Dick Weston, who lives here ? " 
 
 He turned to her with a start, and his face flushed 
 noticeably. Their eyes met and he knew in an instant 
 that the shrewd little woman had guessed his secret. 
 
 " There is no reason why I should conceal it from 
 you," he replied ; " that is my name." 
 
 They were silent for a few moments. To Weston it 
 was a relief that concealment was at an end. There had 
 never been any real purpose in it, and he was ashamed
 
 212 THE STAKE 
 
 that Mrs. Carson, who had been such a friend to him, 
 should believe that he had willfully deceived her. 
 
 " Will you forgive me," he said, abruptly. 
 
 She placed her hand on his, and he thought he saw 
 tears in her eyes. 
 
 " Why did you take that other name ? " she asked. 
 
 " You gave it to me. I never heard the name until 
 you called me Mr. Jenkins." He laughed nervously. 
 " I neither affirmed nor denied. I was weak from my 
 illness, and just a little blue. I didn't care much who 
 I was, or whom you thought me." 
 
 " And it was you who saved Louise Ellsworth's life ! " 
 she said, her eyes shining with interest. 
 
 " Oh ! Was Aunt Louise in the shipwreck with 
 you ? " cried Dicky. " Why, she never said a word 
 about it. I'm going to tell her I think she's real mean." 
 
 " I'm afraid the cat's out of the bag now," laughed 
 Weston. 
 
 " Where is the cat ? " exclaimed Dicky, jumping to his 
 feet. 
 
 " Here, young man, you'll go overboard," cried Wes- 
 ton, catching the boy's arm. " I'll take you forward 
 and turn you over to Dad. He can spin more yarns than 
 you ever heard before." 
 
 When the irrepressible youngster was safely depos- 
 ited in Dad's care, and Weston could talk freely with 
 his companion, he told her many things which cleared 
 the mystery of his identity, and she, quickly noting his 
 easy manners and evidence of refinement, was pleased 
 to have her good opinion of him confirmed. 
 
 " Really, Mrs. Carson," said- Weston, " I have felt
 
 THE STAKE 213 
 
 ashamed of my deception. You were so good to me, 
 and it was such a silly thing for me to do. But when 
 everybody insisted that my name was Jenkins, I was too 
 indifferent to everything to care much about it." 
 
 " Did you know that it was the Ellsworth carriage 
 which struck you down ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes. So I heard." 
 
 " They were hurrying back to the station to find you." 
 
 His face showed surprise. 
 
 " You didn't know that, did you ? " she said. " Nor 
 how anxious Louise was to find you? The carriage 
 drove away from the station, before she realized that 
 you were not with them, and when she found that they 
 had left you behind, she was very much disturbed about 
 it, and they were hurrying back when the accident oc- 
 curred. You didn't know all this, did you ? " 
 
 She was leaning forward and looking intently into 
 his face. 
 
 " No ! " he replied gravely. " I didn't know that part 
 of the story." 
 
 " And Louise has been searching for you ever since." 
 
 " So Mr. Travis told me." 
 
 " Mr. Travis ! Yes, to be sure ! He told her last 
 night he had found you." 
 
 " Is Miss Ellsworth here ? " asked Weston with sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " Yes, at the hotel." 
 
 " Does she know that I am here ? " 
 
 " Of course she does. I think she would like to see 
 you, and explain her neglect." 
 
 " It isn't necessary," said he gloomily.
 
 214 THE STAKE 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 Weston brought the boat around upon another tack, 
 caught the swinging boom, and carried it over her head. 
 
 " Will you change to the other side, please," he said. 
 
 But Mrs. Carson was not to be diverted from her 
 plans. 
 
 "You will call on us this afternoon?" she inquired 
 sweetly. 
 
 " Thank you ! I hardly think I believe I have a 
 business engagement with Mr. Travis this afternoon. 
 Perhaps I will call some other time." 
 
 " Business with Mr. Travis ! " she thought. " That's 
 a new phase in the situation." Then as there came to 
 her memory the words the young lawyer had spoken 
 the night before, she gave a little gasp, and clasped her 
 hands. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Jenkins ! I mean Mr. Weston ! Are you 
 the man who owns those wonderful copper lands that 
 Mr. Travis is after?" 
 
 There was an amused look in the young man's face as 
 he replied: 
 
 " So you know about that, too. What more have 
 you discovered about me ? I shall have to take a mental 
 review of my past life, and see if my record will bear 
 inspection." 
 
 " Is the land really so very valuable ? " 
 
 " I don't know. To tell the truth I have given it no 
 thought. My uncle's recent death has made me heir 
 to his property, which includes some land in Michigan. 
 I never saw it nor heard of it before, so I am as ig- 
 norant as you are of its value."
 
 THE STAKE 215 
 
 " Mr. Travis tried to buy it of you, didn't he ? " per- 
 sisted Mrs. Carson. 
 
 " I believe he did make some kind of overtures on 
 the subject," replied Weston carelessly, as he prepared 
 to make another tack. " I'll have to trouble you to 
 change to the other side. The wind is falling and per- 
 haps we'd better turn back. It's too hot to take the 
 chance of being becalmed out here." 
 
 " I wish you would tell me what you are going to do 
 about that land," said Mrs. Carson, as she took the 
 other seat. " Perhaps you think I am inquisitive, but 
 I know how desperately anxious the copper syndicate 
 is to obtain this particular piece." 
 
 " Is it possible that you are a member of that band 
 of conspirators ? " laughed Weston. " How comes it 
 that you are so familiar with their plans ? " 
 
 " I only wish I could be included in the syndicate," 
 sighed Mrs. Carson. " But they wouldn't let me in. 
 Do you know, if I were the head of the copper trust, 
 the first thing I would do, would be to hire a man 
 like Ned Travis, to hunt the world over for you, and 
 never leave you until I had captured your land. There, 
 I wonder if I've betrayed a secret." 
 
 She leaned forward, and looked up into his face with 
 an amused smile, and Weston responded with a nod of 
 understanding. 
 
 " I have been warned already," said he. " Mr. 
 Travis knows by this time what he must do." 
 
 " Have you offered to sell to him? " 
 
 " No, indeed ! I told him I had no idea of the value 
 of the land, and couldn't name a price. Then I turned
 
 216 THE STAKE 
 
 him over to a man who, I think, will be a match for 
 him; Old Bill Rankin my uncle's friend. Oh, 
 Travis will find his task anything but easy when he 
 tackles him. Let him try all his tricks and his arts, 
 I'll bet on Rankin to circumvent him." 
 
 " You mustn't blame Mr. Travis. He is simply car- 
 rying out the wishes of the men who employ him." 
 
 " But I can only reach them through him," answered 
 Weston, bitterly. " As far as possible I want to make 
 them suffer in pocket, if not in personal discomfort. 
 If I had the power to thwart their plans, I would use 
 it to the limit. I care less for the advantage to me in 
 wealth, than I do for the personal satisfaction of pun- 
 ishing these men." 
 
 " You surprise me, Mr. Weston. Those are harsh 
 words. I don't believe you even know the names of 
 the gentlemen who form this syndicate." 
 
 " I know that they are the same men who ruined my 
 father and brought him to his grave. They use their 
 great combination of wealth to harass their fellow- 
 men, and drive them into poverty, by the most hateful 
 methods; and they do not hesitate to obtain by legal 
 trickery and fraud, what they dare not steal openly." 
 
 " That's a pretty strong statement to make of men 
 like Senator Ellsworth and " 
 
 " Senator Ellsworth ? " echoed Weston. 
 
 " Yes. Senator Ellsworth. Louise's father. Don't 
 you know that he is .the real head of the syndicate? 
 Of course, his name doesn't appear officially, but he is 
 the one who directs the whole affair." 
 
 " No, I didn't know that," replied Weston, and then
 
 THE STAKE -217 
 
 sat in silence for a few minutes. "Well, it's out of 
 my hands, now," he said. " They must deal with 
 Rankin." 
 
 " Better bring her over, Mr. Dick," shouted Dad. 
 " We ain't got much breeze left, an' she's dyin'" 
 
 Weston roused himself and headed the boat for the 
 dock, while Dicky, crawling back to his mother, 
 whispered in her ear: 
 
 " Is his name Dick, too ? " 
 
 " Yes, dear." 
 
 The boy gazed at Weston for some minutes, with 
 wide-opened eyes, as if laboring with a serious problem. 
 
 " Sometimes you are Bill Jenkins, and sometimes you 
 are Dick, and I don't know what to call you." 
 
 Suddenly his face brightened. 
 
 " I'm going to call you Robinson Crusoe, 'cause you 
 was shipwrecked." 
 
 Mrs. Carson turned to Weston with a laugh. 
 
 " That was the name Louise gave you Mr. 
 Crusoe." 
 
 "Did she?" 
 
 There was a look of unusual interest in his face, 
 and the bright little woman, quick to seize the oppor- 
 tunity, said earnestly: 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Crusoe ! She has told me the story of 
 your strange experiences together. I wouldn't dare 
 repeat the flattering things she has said about you. 
 Will you come this afternoon and see her?" 
 
 " I cannot," he said in a low voice. 
 
 "Cannot?" 
 
 He shook his head slowly.
 
 218 THE STAKE 
 
 " It would only embarrass Miss Ellsworth, and as 
 for me " 
 
 He paused, and turned to her with a look of appeal. 
 
 " I mustn't open old wounds," he said. 
 
 She smiled upon him encouragingly. 
 
 "Are they healed?" 
 
 " I fear not." 
 
 " Then come." 
 
 " Do you advise it? " 
 
 " I'm not going to say another word. If you ignore 
 my invitation, then perish in your folly." 
 
 " Hi, thar ! What ye doin' ? " shouted Dad. " Bring 
 her 'longside, an' hold her fast, 'til I git ye hitched."
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 WHEN Mrs. Carson returned to the hotel, she found 
 Louise still suffering from her headache, and so 
 said nothing of her morning excursion and her inter- 
 view with Dick Weston. 
 
 " My dear girl ! " she cried, as she entered the room 
 where Louise was still stretched upon the bed, pressing 
 her hands to her temples. " Do you mean to say that 
 you have had no breakfast? I shouldn't have left 
 you." 
 
 " Do you suppose that you could get me some 
 phenacetine ? " asked the sufferer. 
 
 " I'll try. It is the first time I have ventured from 
 home without a supply. A small bottle of camphor 
 is the only thing I brought with me. I'll write to 
 Dr. Stewart to send me a package of remedies. We 
 may need them." 
 
 As the result of this decision a letter was dispatched 
 that very day to Dr. Stewart, ostensibly to ask for his 
 medical assistance, but incidentally to acquaint him with 
 the discovery of Dick Weston, his various aliases, and 
 the presence of Ned Travis. 
 
 That latter gentleman appeared at lunch in a state of 
 noticeable ill humor, and to Mrs. Carson's attempts at 
 conversation gave such little heed, that she finally lost 
 her patience, and exclaimed:
 
 " You are very unsociable, Mr. Travis. Of course, 
 I shouldn't expect you to entertain me, but as an ex- 
 ample to my son, couldn't you disguise your mood, and 
 make believe that you are attentive ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mrs. Carson," replied Travis, 
 penitently. " I've been terribly annoyed this morn- 
 ing, and it has made me forgetful." 
 
 "But why should you take your revenge on me? 
 Here I have been dragged to this lonely spot, only to 
 be deserted by Louise, who has a headache, poor child, 
 and now I'm to be ignored by you because something 
 has annoyed you. Fortunately I have Mr. Weston 
 to fall back upon." 
 
 " Mr. Weston ! Have you seen him? " 
 
 " Oh ! Now you are interested, are you ? Did you 
 suppose I could spend an hour in a sail boat with a 
 young man, without finding out all his secrets ? " 
 
 " Then you know " 
 
 " I know that Mr. Weston and Mr. Jenkins are the 
 same person." 
 
 " And he's Mr. Crusoe, too," cried Dicky, pausing 
 in the pleasing process of devouring a dish of straw- 
 berries and cream. " And he and Aunt Louise " 
 (another spoonful) " was shipwrecked on a island, 
 and " (the last berry was transferred to the open 
 mouth) "and and I'm goin' to have 'em both tell 
 me all about it." 
 
 "Aha! So the cat's out of the bag at last," said 
 Travis, with a shrug of indifference. 
 
 " Yes, sir ! It got out while we was sailing in the 
 boat. Mamma, can I have some more strawberries ? "
 
 THE STAKE 221 
 
 With a mental wish that all cats and boys, under 
 ten years of age, might be strangled, Travis rose from 
 the table. 
 
 " Will you excuse me," he said. " I must send a 
 letter by the stage, and have only a few minutes 
 left." 
 
 Retiring to a desk in the office, he relieved his mind 
 by writing the following letter : 
 
 " My Dear Senator: 
 
 As I wrote to you yesterday, I have at last found 
 my man, and thought, by this time, I would have 
 landed him, but a new complication has arisen. The 
 owner of the land we are after, is a young fellow 
 named Weston; an amiable, easy-going chap, who has 
 just inherited the land from his uncle. He never saw 
 it, nor has he any idea of its value. When I suggested 
 that I could find a buyer for it, he seemed, at first, in- 
 clined to sell. I tried to get him to name his price, 
 but he put me off, and finally turned me over to that 
 old fellow named Rankin, who has been living on or 
 near the land, and who came here recently. Rankin 
 is a queer customer; apparently with little intellect, 
 but exasperatingly stubborn. He seems to be sus- 
 picious of me, and insists that he will deal only with 
 the real purchasers. I judge from his remarks that he 
 has a prejudice against lawyers. So here I am in 
 a predicament. Weston refuses to deal with me on 
 his own account, and refers me to Rankin. Rankin, 
 if he will sell at all, insists on selling direct to the 
 buyer. I am sorry to have to call you into the case,
 
 "222 THE STAKE 
 
 but there seems to be no other way to meet the dif- 
 ficulty. Can you come up and help me? 
 
 " Yours truly, 
 
 " TRAVIS." 
 
 As he handed the letter to the office-clerk, with in- 
 structions to have it mailed without delay, he was sur- 
 prised to see Dick Weston enter the door, dressed in 
 a light-gray summer suit and straw hat. 
 
 "How are you, Weston?" he cried with apparent 
 cordiality. " You're just the man I want to see. Join 
 me in a cigar, and help me kill time." 
 
 "Thanks," replied Dick. "You tempt me, but I 
 must first send up my card to Mrs. Carson. I prom- 
 ised to call this afternoon." 
 
 " Hence these shining garments, I suppose ! " laughed 
 Travis. " You probably won't be able to see her. She 
 has gone upstairs to comfort Miss Ellsworth, who is 
 laid up with a headache." 
 
 He produced a couple of Havanas, and they both 
 went out on the piazza. 
 
 " I don't want to knock your town, Weston, but 
 really this is the dullest hole I ever got into," ex- 
 claimed Travis, as they took chairs to a shady spot, 
 and lighted their cigars. "And it's so beastly hot, 
 too." 
 
 " Hence these shining garments," repeated Weston, 
 smiling. " Please remember that this is not my town, 
 nor am I responsible for the weather. Fortunately I 
 was prepared for it, though. I tell you, it was a relief 
 to get into these thin togs."
 
 THE STAKE 223 
 
 " You have the advantage of me," continued the other 
 moodily. " I left Boston in such a hurry, I forgot to 
 prepare for a change in the weather." 
 
 "Expect to remain here long?" inquired Weston. 
 
 " I hope not. That is I can't tell Say, Weston, 
 is your decision about the property irrevocable ? " 
 
 Weston took the cigar from his lips, and turned to 
 his companion with a well-assumed air of surprise. 
 
 "You mean that Michigan land?" 
 
 " Yes. Can't I deal direct with you ? Your man, 
 Rankin, is too much for me. I made him a fair propo- 
 sition, but he put me off without the least considera- 
 tion." 
 
 " What was the proposition ? " 
 
 " I offered to pay him more than the land was worth. 
 I couldn't be any fairer than that, could I ? " 
 
 " That would seem to be more than fair," replied 
 Weston, puffing quietly at his cigar. " What was the 
 amount of your offer ? " 
 
 " No amount was named, but I don't mind telling 
 you in confidence, that I was prepared to go as high 
 as ten thousand dollars." 
 
 " Indeed ! Is the land worth that much ? " 
 
 Travis eyed his companion curiously. He seemed 
 to detect a tone of sarcasm or concealed humor in the 
 last remark. 
 
 " You don't value it so high ? " he inquired, guard- 
 edly. 
 
 " I haven't the least idea of its value. That's why 
 I left it to Rankin. You'll have to settle it with him." 
 
 The young attorney frowned.
 
 224 THE STAKE 
 
 " It's hard luck. That's the least I can say of it. 
 When a man is employed on a case, and brings it to 
 the point of conclusion, it is rather disappointing to 
 have to refer it back to his principal, and confess his 
 failure." 
 
 " Then you have abandoned the idea of buying? " 
 
 " No," replied Travis. " We haven't abandoned it, 
 but I've had to send for Senator Ellsworth to make 
 terms with your confounded agent." 
 
 " Senator Ellsworth ! " exclaimed Weston. " So, 
 you have had to send for him, have you ? " 
 
 He paused for a moment and then added with a 
 laugh : 
 
 " Travis, I think you and I can sit back and look on. 
 If I'm not mistaken, your client will find his match in 
 Rankin." 
 
 A hand was laid on his arm, and he turned to find 
 Dicky Carson at his side. 
 
 " Mamma says to please excuse her. Aunt Louise 
 is sick, and she has to stay with her. And will you 
 please play with me ? " 
 
 Weston put his arm around the boy. 
 
 " All right, little comrade," he said. " What shall it 
 be?" 
 
 Dicky looked at him a moment with bewildered 
 eyes, trying to plan something worthy of such an un- 
 usual opportunity. Then with a comical expression of 
 despair, he said : 
 
 "You tell." 
 
 "Oh, run along!" cried Travis. "You mustn't 
 bother Mr. Weston."
 
 THE STAKE 225 
 
 " His name is Mr. Crusoe," declared Dicky, delib- 
 erately. " And he promised to play with me." 
 
 Weston smiled at the boy, and held him closer. 
 
 "Let me see! What can we do? How would you 
 like to go with me up to my home. Perhaps I could 
 show you some new playthings." 
 
 " What ? " cried the boy eagerly. 
 
 " Oh, a family of little pigs, and a young colt that 
 kicks up his heels. Then we might go out and pick 
 some strawberries." 
 
 " I'll go," decided Dicky, as he wriggled out of his 
 friend's arm, and indicated his readiness to start at 
 once. 
 
 " Ask your mother, first. Tell her I'll take good care 
 of you, and bring you back before supper." 
 
 The boy darted away, and Travis exclaimed petu- 
 lantly : 
 
 " This is the worst hole I ever got into. How in the 
 world anyone would come here for a summer's recrea- 
 tion is a mystery to me." 
 
 " It all depends upon the person," replied Weston. 
 " I can imagine that it wouldn't suit you. Why don't 
 you go back to Boston ? " 
 
 " I wish I could. But I must wait for word from old 
 Ellsworth." 
 
 " I promise you neither Rankin nor I will run away," 
 laughed Weston. " But, if Mr. Ellsworth is coming 
 here to negotiate with Rankin for that land, I advise 
 you to stay, for I think we'll see some fun." 
 
 At this moment Dicky returned beaming with de- 
 light. His mother had given him permission to go,
 
 226 THE STAKE 
 
 and Mr. Weston was to take supper with them on his 
 return. 
 
 " And I promised to be good and not bother, and I 
 mustn't eat too many strawberries and I mustn't ask 
 questions and I mustn't get my clothes dirty, and " 
 
 " Come on ! " cried Weston gayly, taking him by the 
 hand. " Will you join us, Travis ? " 
 
 " No ! I'm afraid I'd get my clothes dirty, or ask 
 too many questions, or do something else real naughty. 
 I'll stay here and fight it out with my cigars." 
 
 When they were gone, Travis strolled to the corner, 
 and watched the couple as they climbed the road lead- 
 ing up the long hill, the boy clinging to the other's hand, 
 and skipping merrily at his side. 
 
 " He's a queer fellow ! I'm glad we have to deal with 
 the man, Rankin," he muttered. " It goes against the 
 grain to try to get the better of such a chap as Weston. 
 A nice sentiment for me to indulge in ! " 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the 
 hotel, where he lounged about the piazza the rest of 
 the day, smoking and grumbling over the fate which 
 held him prisoner in such a place. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mrs. Carson, sitting at Louise Ellsworth's 
 bedside, was waiting for an opportunity to tell her 
 friend of the events of the morning, and her discovery 
 of Dick Weston. The romantic story of their strange 
 adventure had, long ago, suggested to her the possi- 
 bility of a closer attachment between these two, and 
 her interest was aroused. Of Weston's feelings to- 
 wards Louise, she was almost sure, but she could not 
 understand why he wished to avoid her. That Louise
 
 THE STAKE 227 
 
 was interested in him, she did not doubt. He was at- 
 tractive personally; their acquaintance, though brief, 
 had certainly been intimate; and here was an oppor- 
 tunity to renew it. 
 
 Frankly admitting to herself that it was none of her 
 business, she could not resist taking part in weaving 
 the web of this romance. But all attempts at conversa- 
 tion had thus far failed. 
 
 " Please don't talk, dear," pleaded the sufferer. " My 
 head is nearly splitting. You can do nothing for it. 
 It always lasts all day." 
 
 As the afternoon wore away, Mrs. Carson went out- 
 of-doors for a breath of fresh air, and found Travis 
 moping alone on the piazza. 
 
 " Come to my rescue," he cried, as he spied her at 
 the open doorway. " I'm like a ship adrift in mid- 
 ocean. I thought I had captured Weston for awhile, 
 but he deserted me in favor of Dicky. How is Louise 
 Miss Ellsworth? Are you two going to be unap- 
 proachable much longer? Think of me stranded in this 
 hole without a companion." 
 
 " Louise should have postponed her headache, rather 
 than let it inconvenience you," replied Mrs. Carson, 
 sarcastically. 
 
 Travis threw away his cigar, and joined the young 
 widow as she walked slowly along the piazza. 
 
 " Mrs. Carson ! " he said, after a moment's hesita- 
 tion. "You're a good friend of mine, aren't you?" 
 
 " Tell me what you want first. You can't trap me 
 with any of the tricks of your profession," she replied 
 saucily.
 
 228 THE STAKE 
 
 "Of course you understand about this matter between 
 between Louise and and myself?" 
 
 Mrs. Carson made no reply, and Travis was forced to 
 go deeper into his explanation. 
 
 " We have known each other since we were chil- 
 dren, and I have always looked upon her as well, I 
 have always thought that sometime we would marry, 
 don't you know ? " 
 
 " No, I don't know," replied Mrs. Carson, sharply. 
 " Please don't assume that I am in anybody's confidence 
 in affairs of that kind. I have other things to think 
 about." 
 
 " I want your help and your advice," he continued. 
 " I love Louise with all my heart, and I believed that 
 she was not indifferent to me, but lately I have noticed 
 a change. She doesn't meet me with the same freedom 
 as before, and when I speak of my hopes, she receives 
 me with cold looks and evasive replies. I am sure of 
 her father's consent to our union, if only I can win 
 hers." 
 
 They had reached the end of the piazza, and stood 
 looking up the village street. 
 
 " You ask my advice," she said. 
 
 " Yes. I look upon you as a friend to both of us." 
 
 " My advice to you is to give her up." 
 
 He started back in surprise. 
 
 " Give her up ? Never ! Why should I ? We are 
 suited for each other. She has never cared for any 
 other man " 
 
 She looked up quickly. 
 
 " Are you sure of that? " she asked.
 
 THE STAKE 229 
 
 " I thought so," he answered slowly. " Why do you 
 ask the question? Have you any suspicion? Whom 
 do you mean ? " 
 
 " Is that Dicky coming down the hill ? " she asked, 
 pointing to where two figures could be seen in the dis- 
 tance. 
 
 " Yes, he and Weston." 
 
 " What do you think of him ? " 
 
 "Who? Dicky?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 Travis looked at her curiously for a moment. 
 
 " Do you mean," he said, " that you think Louise is 
 interested in this fellow is in love with him?" 
 
 " I don't know anything about it, but I am quite sure, 
 if I were in her place, that is just what would happen 
 to me." 
 
 " I don't believe it," he exclaimed angrily. " It's pre- 
 posterous. Why, she has only seen him two days." 
 
 " Yes, but those two days were eventful, to say the 
 least." 
 
 " He was of service to her, and, no doubt, she feels 
 grateful, but I don't believe she has any deeper senti- 
 ment towards him, unless " he stopped suddenly, and 
 looked f rowningly upon her " unless somebody has 
 been putting romantic notions into her head." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " Don't accuse me," she said. " I'm innocent of any 
 plot against your designs. But I warn you that my 
 sympathies are with the other party. So you see I 
 cannot help you, unless you will take my advice to give 
 her up."
 
 230 THE STAKE 
 
 She drew a dainty lace handkerchief from her waist, 
 and waved to the approaching figures. Travis bit his 
 lip and turned away. 
 
 " I see I must fight my battles alone," he said bit- 
 terly, as he left her. 
 
 When Weston reached the end of the piazza., where 
 Mrs. Carson stood, he picked up the boy and lifted him 
 over the rail beside his mother. 
 
 " Oh, Mamma ! " cried the little fellow. " I saw some 
 pigs with little curly tails at one end, and mouths at the 
 other end, and they squealed just like this." 
 
 He gave a good imitation of the sound, which was 
 smothered in a kiss from his mother, who stooped down 
 and took him in her arms, while the boy continued his 
 account of the afternoon's sport. 
 
 " And then we went and picked some strawberries, 
 and I got some on my waist, but Mr. Crusoe said it was 
 all right, because he always did when he was a boy 
 and there was a lady gave me a doughnut like a dog, 
 but I ate it up, and then there was a funny old man 
 made me a whistle, and I've got it in my pocket and, 
 oh ! I've had such a good time." 
 
 " I hope he hasn't troubled you, Mr. Weston," said 
 Mrs. Carson, as he came up the steps and joined them. 
 
 " Trouble ! I should say not ! We've been boys to- 
 gether, haven't we, Dicky? We didn't trouble each 
 other. We just had lots of fun." 
 
 The boy threw his arms impulsively about him, and 
 cried : 
 
 " Oh, I love you ! Next to mamma and Aunt Louise. 
 Better than Martha."
 
 THE STAKE 231 
 
 Weston picked him up and carried him on his shoul- 
 der into the hotel office, whither Travis had already dis- 
 appeared. The latter was nowhere to be seen, nor did 
 he join them at supper, although Mrs. Carson looked 
 for him with a half -repentant wish to offer him some 
 consolation. 
 
 A half-hour later, as she sat at the table opposite 
 Weston, she thought complacently of the romance which 
 was being enacted under her guidance. Given an ador- 
 able young girl, two devoted lovers, the intimacy of as- 
 sociation in a small hotel, a bright woman as intrigante, 
 and there remains only the setting of the pieces, with 
 a convenient arrangement of opportunities, to produce 
 the plot, the struggle, and the happy result. To the 
 young widow, the choice of hero had been by the intui- 
 tion of her own heart. With all her friendliness for 
 Ned Travis, she cast him aside as unavailable when 
 compared with the other. Nor did she fear any real 
 suffering on his part. His pride might be hurt, but 
 his affections were not likely to be seriously damaged 
 by the loss of Louise Ellsworth, for whom he professed 
 a love which, while no doubt sincere, was founded upon 
 a sense of birthright, by reason of long acquaintance. 
 
 If she were at all analytical as to the true state of 
 Louise's own feelings, it was to put herself, in imagina- 
 tion, in the girl's place, and to make her choice from that 
 standpoint. From this basis of reasoning, she arrived 
 at but one result: Louise Ellsworth must inevitably 
 love Dick Weston, whether she herself realized it or 
 not. Perhaps the reflection of another attachment, 
 which she kept carefully concealed in her own heart,
 
 232 THE STAKE 
 
 gave her prophetic insight into the true state of her 
 friend's sentiments. It was the memory of this secret 
 fancy which brought the blush to her cheek, when Wes- 
 ton remarked cheerfully: 
 
 "If only we had Dr. Stewart here now, it would be 
 quite like a family reunion. Then, for the sake of ap- 
 pearances, I would have to be ' Bill Jenkins ' again." 
 
 " I am sometimes puzzled to remember," she said, 
 " whether you are Mr. Jenkins or Mr. Crusoe or Mr. 
 Weston." 
 
 " Take your choice," he replied, laughing. " I seem 
 to fit any one of the three." 
 
 " Do you know that, while the others were deceived 
 about you, and thought you were only an ordinary 
 sailor or workman, I knew instinctively that you were 
 different." 
 
 There was an amused twinkle in Weston's eye. 
 
 " Different ? " he asked. " In what way am I dif- 
 ferent from the usual run of mortals ? " 
 
 " I hardly know how to express it. You are well, 
 you are our kind. Do you understand what I mean ? " 
 
 " I understand that you are paying me a fine compli- 
 ment, Mrs. Carson. It is a patent of nobility to be 
 classed as ' one of your kind.' " 
 
 " I wish you would talk of sumpin' else," complained 
 Dicky, who had been looking from one to the other, 
 waiting for a familiar strain in the conversation. 
 
 " What, for instance ? " said Weston, glad to change 
 the subject from himself. " Have you told your mother 
 about the hen's eggs ? " 
 
 " Oh ! " cried the boy, plunging into an account of
 
 THE STAKE 233 
 
 his day's experiences. " We found lots of them in a 
 great big house." 
 
 " Barn," interjected Weston. 
 
 " Where there were piles and piles of hay," continued 
 Dicky. 
 
 " Not so loud ! " interrupted his mother. " Every- 
 body in the dining-room can hear you." 
 
 " And I got fourteen," he declared, in a whisper. 
 " And Mr. Crusoe gave me a penny for each one." 
 
 Then casting a shy look at his friend, he added 
 soberly : 
 
 " But he found most all of the eggs hisself." 
 
 Mrs. Carson shook her head at Weston. 
 
 " You are teaching my son strange lessons in busi- 
 ness methods," she said. Then as her glance went past 
 him to the entrance of the dining-room, she dropped 
 her napkin, and rose hastily from her chair. 
 
 " There comes Louise ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 Weston started from his seat and turned to meet her, 
 whom he had not seen since that memorable day, when 
 they were parted so unexpectedly. And she, supposing 
 him to be Ned Travis, did not notice him, until, just as 
 she reached the table, they met face to face. After a 
 slight hesitation, he held out his hand to her, while 
 Mrs. Carson exclaimed nervously: 
 
 " I believe you have met Mr. Weston before." 
 
 For a brief moment there was an awkward pause, 
 and then as her hand was laid in his, Weston said 
 gravely : 
 
 " It is a great pleasure for me to see you again, Miss 
 Ellsworth. I called earlier in the day, but was told
 
 234 THE STAKE 
 
 that you were kept in your room with a headache. I 
 hope you are better." 
 
 " Thank you/' she replied, slowly withdrawing her 
 eyes from his face. " I didn't know no one told 
 me" 
 
 " It was my fault, dear," said Mrs. Carson. " I in- 
 tended to tell you that Mr. Weston called, but you 
 wouldn't let me talk to you. How is the head now? 
 Sit down with us and have a cup of tea." 
 
 " The headache is gone, thank you," said Louise, 
 taking a seat at the table. " But I need more than a 
 cup of tea after my long fast." 
 
 " Now we are all here ! " announced Dicky, delight- 
 edly kicking his heels against the rounds of his chair. 
 " I'm glad you've come, Aunt Louise, 'cause Mr. Cru- 
 soe can't very well tell 'bout the shipwreck. He don't 
 remember very well." 
 
 " Dicky, you are altogether too talkative," chided his 
 mother. " Remember, little people should be seen and 
 not heard." 
 
 " If they're little, nobody sees them, unless they make 
 a noise," pouted the boy. 
 
 " Have you met any of the people here ? " inquired 
 Weston of Mrs. Carson, as he glanced around the din- 
 ing-room. " They are the ones who arrived at the 
 opening of the season, so they are called ' the first fam- 
 ilies.' " 
 
 " And very select, no doubt," remarked Mrs. Car- 
 son carelessly. " We are interlopers, you know, so they 
 look askance at us." 
 
 " They'll take you in before long," laughed Weston.
 
 THE STAKE 235 
 
 " Everybody is acquainted within a week, in a place like 
 this." 
 
 " A week ! " exclaimed Mrs. Carson. " We're not 
 going to stay here a week, I hope." 
 
 She turned inquiringly to her friend. 
 
 " Are we, Louise ? " 
 
 " Not on my account," was the hasty reply. 
 
 " Of course, dear," added Mrs. Carson, demurely, 
 " I won't desert you if you really want to stay." 
 
 " I would like to stay long enough to make a respecta- 
 ble exit," laughed Louise. " Most of the time since I 
 came has been spent in bed with a headache." 
 
 '' The excitement here has been too much for you," 
 declared Mrs. Carson. " Tell us, Mr. Weston, is there 
 really anything to attract one to this place ? " 
 
 "Socially?" 
 
 " No, I despair of that ; although Ned Travis did 
 make the effort last night. What do people come here 
 for?" 
 
 " I might better ask that question of you," laughed 
 Weston. 
 
 " Then Louise w,ould have to answer it. She is the 
 one who dragged me here." 
 
 " It was curiosity, I think, or or something like 
 that," faltered Louise, coloring slightly. 
 
 Then bravely facing Weston, she said : 
 
 " I am glad of this opportunity to thank you, Mr. 
 Weston, for your kindness to me when when we were 
 together that time. Our parting was so abrupt, I 
 didn't tell you then, and, afterwards " 
 
 She paused, gave a little nervous laugh, and added:
 
 236 THE STAKE 
 
 " Afterwards you disappeared, and no one could find 
 you." 
 
 " And I knew where he was all the time," declared 
 Mrs. Carson, eager to tell of her discovery. " Prepare 
 for a surprise." 
 
 But her story was interrupted by a waiter, who in- 
 formed Weston that a lady wished to see him in the 
 office. 
 
 " Will you excuse me ? " he asked, rising from the 
 table. 
 
 " Certainly," replied Mrs. Carson. " We've finished 
 supper, so we'll follow you." 
 
 They all left the dining-room together and went into 
 the office, or main waiting-room of the hotel, where 
 Weston found Mrs. Guilford standing near the door. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Weston ! " she cried, as he came towards 
 her with outstretched hand. " Ezry is took awful bad 
 with rheumatiz. He wants to see ye. I went over to 
 th' haouse, an' Mis' Briggs, she said she guessed yew 
 was daown here. I've been a-waitin' some time t' see 
 ye. I hated t' disturb ye, but Ezry " 
 
 " Don't say another word, Mrs. Guilford. Wait a 
 moment until I get my hat. Mrs. Carson, will you ex- 
 cuse me ? An old friend of mine, Squire Guilford, has 
 sent for me. He is in trouble. Mrs. Guilford, this 
 is Mrs. Carson, and Miss Ellsworth." 
 
 " Glad t' know ye both," said Mrs. Guilford, making 
 a quaint courtesy. " I hope I ain't makin' trouble." 
 
 " Not in the least," replied Mrs. Carson, as Weston 
 left them. " I wish we could be of some assistance to 
 you. Is it your husband who is in trouble? "
 
 THE STAKE 237 
 
 " Only a bad attack o' rheumatiz. He's bed it off 
 an' on fer thirty year, but this one's 'bout th' wust I 
 ever see. He's worryin' 'bout th' stage, an' th' mail. 
 When he come home to-night, he says t' me, says he, 
 ' Mis' Guilford, I'm plum beat, an' somebody else has 
 got t' do th' stagin' t-morrer.' Then he sent fer Mr. 
 Weston. Ye see he sot so much by his uncle, thet he 
 natchly turns to th' young one fer help." 
 
 " Mr. Weston's uncle was your friend, was he?" in- 
 quired Mrs. Carson, tempted to learn something of the 
 antecedents of her new protege. 
 
 " My friend ! " exclaimed Mrs. Guilford. " He was 
 ev'rybody's friend. The kindest man ye ever see. 
 Young Dick seems jest like him, though I ain't hed 
 much chance t' know him very well." 
 
 " Come, Mrs. Guilford," cried Weston, joining the 
 group. " I'm ready. Good night, ladies. May I call 
 to-morrow ? " 
 
 " We will expect you," said Mrs. Carson cordially. 
 
 As she and Louise stood on the piazza, watching the 
 retreating couple, she remarked : 
 
 " I could almost love that man." 
 
 And when her companion made no comment upon 
 this declaration, she added: 
 
 " Some women are stupidly blind, and all men are 
 enigmas." 
 
 " I have heard that statement reversed," said a voice 
 at her elbow, and she turned to find Travis standing 
 by her side. 
 
 " I withdraw the remark, as applied to you," she re- 
 plied quickly. " You are blindly stupid, and no
 
 238 THE STAKE 
 
 enigma. Where have you been hiding, and what have 
 you been hatching?" 
 
 " Waiting my turn, and hatching compliments for the 
 only two possible women in the hotel. Be merciful and 
 give me your company. How is the headache, Louise ? " 
 
 " Better, thank you. But I am in an uncommonly 
 stupid frame of mind, so, if you and Mrs. Carson will 
 excuse me, I'll go to my room, and let you two settle 
 your differences without an audience." 
 
 " Well ? " inquired Travis, as Louise left them. 
 
 " My dear fellow ! " said Mrs. Carson. " Go back 
 to Boston, patch up your wounded heart, and try a new 
 field for your wooing." 
 
 " Not yet," he replied, with a savage frown. " There 
 are several cards still to be played."
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE next morning was ushered in by a raw east 
 wind, and a drizzling rain. Everybody kept within 
 doors. Even the hotel piazza was deserted, save that 
 from time to time some hopeful prisoner would venture 
 out to take observations of the sky, and then, discour- 
 aged by the unbroken and gloomy gray, would hurry 
 back to the shelter and warmth of the office, where a 
 large stove radiated heat into the faces of a circle of 
 disconsolate guests. 
 
 In an adjoining room, called by courtesy, " The La- 
 dies' Parlor," an amateur musician was extracting un- 
 certain harmonies from an untuned piano. Stale odors 
 permeated the whole house, unable to find an exit 
 through the fast-closed windows and doors. 
 
 The dash of the rain, the muffled roar of the surf, 
 the monotonous chatter of the people about him, all 
 added to Travis's ill humor. His companions in misery 
 offered no attractions socially, and so he moped about 
 the place alone, dejectedly smoking one cigar after an- 
 other, until, spying Dicky sliding down the banister, 
 he called out: 
 
 " Here ! Youngster ! Where's your mother ? " 
 
 " She and Aunt Louise are writing letters," answered 
 the boy, mounting the stairs for another slide. 
 
 " Well, you tell her there's a madman raging around
 
 240 THE STAKE 
 
 down here, and ask her what ought to be done to him." 
 
 Dicky repeated his acrobatic feat, landed against the 
 newel-post with a thud, rolled over on the floor, and 
 stared up at Travis. 
 
 "Huh!" 
 
 " Tell her I'll go to the bad if it doesn't stop raining." 
 
 Dicky slowly gathered himself together and climbed 
 the stairs, looking back from time to time, with a puz- 
 zled expression on his face. In a few minutes he re- 
 turned, and called from the top stair: 
 
 " Mamma says the rain falls on bad people as well 
 as good people. And that's from the Bible. So you'd 
 better look out." 
 
 " That may do for spiritual comfort, but what I need 
 is diversion." 
 
 " I didn't ask her for any of that," said Dicky, as he 
 prepared for another descent. " But she told me to 
 tell you that she'd play with you after dinner." 
 
 The newel-post again served as a buffer, and Dicky 
 landed on the floor. 
 
 " Good news ! Here's a dime for you, my son," 
 cried Travis, and sauntered away, leaving Dicky eye- 
 ing the coin suspiciously. 
 
 The day was one of idleness and ennui, and it was 
 hot until late in the afternoon that a lull in the storm 
 gave the imprisoned guests of the hotel an opportunity 
 to go out in the open air, where they wandered up and 
 down the piazza, looking at the scudding clouds which 
 drifted low over their heads, or watching the little fleet 
 of boats, bobbing like corks on the turbulent waters of 
 the harbor.
 
 THE STAKE 241 
 
 There was something in the smell of the sea, com- 
 bined with the chill of the damp atmosphere, which 
 reminded Louise Ellsworth of that other storm which 
 she had experienced only two months before. 
 
 " It was out there," she said to Mrs. Carson, pointing 
 seaward, " that we lived through that fearful time. 
 This is a weak imitation, but the roar of the wind and 
 sea brings it to my mind." 
 
 " It was fortunate that you were not alone," sug- 
 gested Mrs. Carson. 
 
 " Fortunate, but a little embarrassing," replied 
 Louise. " I wish you could have seen how I looked, 
 with my hair down, and my clothes all wet and torn. 
 I've often wondered what he thought of me. 
 
 " But," she added with a laugh, " his appearance was 
 not much better." 
 
 " Oh, Mamma ! " cried Dicky, as the stage drove up 
 to the door. " There's Mr. Crusoe." 
 
 Enveloped in an oil-skin coat and hat, still dripping 
 with rain, Weston sprang from the stage, and called to 
 the porter : 
 
 " No passengers to-day." 
 
 " Mr. Crusoe ! Mr. Crusoe ! " cried Dicky from the 
 piazza, and Weston, seeing the two ladies looking down 
 at him, ran up the steps and came to where they were 
 standing. 
 
 " You are indeed Mr. Crusoe," said Louise, meeting 
 him with a smile. " Now I know you." 
 
 In garments so suggestive of the Mr. Crusoe of other 
 days, he completed the picture in her memory. 
 
 " I am the official stage-driver, pro tern.," he ex-
 
 242 THE STAKE 
 
 plained. " The poor old squire is still nursing his ach- 
 ing joints, and as no other substitute was at hand, I 
 had to relieve his mind by driving to Oldfield for the 
 mail." 
 
 " In this frightful weather ? It must have been aw- 
 fully disagreeable," said Mrs. Carson. 
 
 " Not in the least. I liked it." 
 
 " Mr. Weston is a modern Ariel," remarked Louise. 
 " The storm seems to be his natural element." 
 
 " I believe you would have enjoyed it yourself. 
 When a person is well protected, it's fun to be out in the 
 rain. I suppose you have been housed up all day ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Louise. " We didn't know that such 
 weather was one of the attractions of this resort. The 
 fresh air does smell good. It's been close and stuffy 
 in the hotel." 
 
 " You ought to be driving behind Guil ford's horses 
 to get the real dash and spirit of it all. You can tell 
 by the mud on the stage that I didn't spare them. In- 
 deed they enjoyed it, too. We didn't stop for any- 
 thing just splashed through puddles, and rattled down 
 hills, as if we were sent for in a hurry." 
 
 His face was flushed with exposure and the exhilara- 
 tion of his drive. Mrs. Carson, looking at him ad- 
 miringly, said: 
 
 " You are a very different appearing man from the 
 unfortunate Mr. Jenkins whom I knew only a month 
 ago." 
 
 " Thanks to you," he replied gallantly. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Weston ! " exclaimed Louise impulsively. 
 " Mrs. Carson has told me all about about your being
 
 THE STAKE 243 
 
 the Mr. Jenkins who was injured of course you know 
 that I never suspected it was you. It was such a cruel 
 accident ! And to think that I was the cause of it ! " 
 
 " Please don't look at it that way," said Weston 
 gently. " It was no fault of yours, and as to my in- 
 cognito, that was a freak of fate." 
 
 " Do horses ever wear rubber boots ? " inquired 
 Dicky, who had been an uninterested member of the 
 group. 
 
 " Not on week-days," replied Weston. 
 
 " I should think they would get their feet wet." 
 
 " Such a thing has been known to occur." 
 
 " Do you suppose I could ride in the stage with you ? " 
 inquired the lad slowly. 
 
 " I'm quite sure of it," answered Weston, with a 
 smile. Then seeing the look of objection in Mrs. Car- 
 son's face, he added : 
 
 " Let him go with me. I'll take him up to Guilford's 
 and bring him back after supper." 
 
 " I'm afraid he'll annoy you." 
 
 " Not in the least," replied Weston, resting his hand 
 on the boy's head. " He and I are the best of cronies, 
 aren't we, Dicky ? " 
 
 " I don't know what a crony is, but I like you just 
 as if you was my papa. Oh ! I wish you was my papa," 
 he cried excitedly. 
 
 " Your grammar is a little off, my boy," laughed Wes- 
 ton. 
 
 " I haven't any grandma. Only just mamma, and 
 and you, and Aunt Louise." 
 
 " I must be going," said Weston hastily. " Let the
 
 244 THE STAKE 
 
 boy go with me, Mrs. Carson. I'll take good care of 
 him. By the way, why don't you and Miss Ellsworth 
 come, too. Just the thing ! Get your wraps, and I'll 
 take you all for a drive in the stage. What do you 
 say?" 
 
 " I hardly think we can," hesitated Mrs. Carson, turn- 
 ing to Louise. 
 
 " Let's go," replied the latter promptly. " A drive is 
 just what I would enjoy more than anything else." 
 
 Mrs. Carson smiled. She saw possibilities ahead, and 
 like a sagacious general determined to make use of the 
 opportunity which fate offered her. 
 
 " It will do you good, dear, and I advise you to go, 
 but really, I must keep my promise to entertain poor 
 Ned Travis. Here he comes now." 
 
 " But, Belle," objected Louise nervously, " I don't 
 want to go without you. Mr. Travis will excuse you." 
 
 " No. Mr. Travis is to take me to the post office," 
 replied Mrs. Carson, as that gentleman joined the group. 
 
 " Delighted ! " exclaimed Travis. " An excursion to 
 the post office will be an event of bewildering excite- 
 ment after to-day's experience. Hello, Weston! Is 
 that you ? Another disguise ? Great Scott, man ! You 
 ought to be labeled." 
 
 " Mr. Weston has offered to take Louise out for a 
 drive as a final cure for her headache," said Mrs. Car- 
 son. 
 
 " And me, too ! " cried Dicky. 
 
 " Why can't we all go ? " asked Louise. " Isn't your 
 chariot large enough for five, Mr. Weston?" 
 
 A feeling of timidity made her fearful of his com-
 
 THE STAKE 245 
 
 pany without the presence of others, but Mrs. Carson 
 was obdurate. 
 
 " I'm not going," declared that lady decidedly. " And 
 Mr. Travis is to keep me company while you two have 
 your drive." 
 
 " And me, too," repeated Dicky. 
 
 Louise put her arm about the boy. 
 
 " Very well, Dicky," she said, " you and I will accept 
 Mr. Weston's invitation." 
 
 " I think it would be better for Dicky to stay here," 
 said his mother. 
 
 " You promised ! You promised ! " cried Dicky 
 angrily. 
 
 " Of course he is to go," insisted Louise. 
 
 "Of course ! " echoed Weston. 
 
 " Let him go by all means," added Travis. 
 
 " There seems to be a unity of opinion," replied Mrs. 
 Carson. " The decision is against me, so I suppose I 
 must yield. You are unusually popular to-day, Rich- 
 ard. Come, Mr. Travis. You, at least, will not desert 
 me." 
 
 " I wish I might say the same of you," he remarked 
 pointedly, as they went down the steps. " You appear 
 to have gone over to the enemy's camp." 
 
 " My dear boy ! " replied the widow, resting her hand 
 lightly upon his arm, as she daintily avoided the pud- 
 dles of water. " Will you never understand ? Fate 
 and I have decided against you. Give up your dream 
 of marrying Louise Ellsworth, and select some one else 
 to heal your slightly damaged heart." 
 
 " The only other possible one won't take me," replied
 
 246 THE STAKE 
 
 Travis. " She prefers the medical to the legal profes- 
 sion." 
 
 " Is your taste so fastidious that it can find but two 
 in all the world worthy of your devotion? " 
 
 " You are determined to misunderstand me," he re- 
 plied bitterly. 
 
 " Do you understand yourself ? " 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 " I mean that you only think you love Louise. You 
 admire her, and believe that she would be an agreeable 
 companion an attractive wife one who would help 
 you socially. But, my dear boy, that kind of sentiment 
 will never satisfy her. She wants a man's whole heart ; 
 one-half of yours is devoted to your ambition." 
 
 " You are a very wise little woman," said Travis, 
 thoughtfully, " but you can't persuade me that I don't 
 love Louise. Depend upon it, I shall not gire up 
 tamely. I'm not that kind." 
 
 " There spoke your pride, that's the dominating 
 passion of your heart. It is pride rather than love that 
 rules you." 
 
 Travis made no reply, and they walked on in silence 
 for several minutes, until a shout brought to their at- 
 tention the stage with its party of three passing them 
 in the street. On the front seat next to Weston was 
 Dicky, waving his hat in glee, while behind them, on the 
 second seat, sat Louise who smiled demurely upon the 
 two pedestrians as she rode by. 
 
 Travis gave a short laugh. 
 
 " Hurrah for Dicky ! The boy has saved the day. 
 Weston doesn't know how to improve his opportunity.
 
 THE STAKE 247 
 
 You see, Madame Plotter, your scheme has worked 
 badly." 
 
 " Take what comfort you can from the thought," she 
 replied maliciously. "I'm not worried about the re- 
 sult." 
 
 Meanwhile, in the stage, a much more cheerful con- 
 versation was in progress, in which, however, Dicky 
 was taking the leading part. 
 
 "What are the horses' tails all tied up for?" he in- 
 quired, after they had gone some distance. 
 
 " To keep them out of the mud," replied Weston. 
 
 "Are they hard knots?" 
 
 "Rather hard. Why?" 
 
 " Supposin' you couldn't untie 'em ! Then they 
 couldn't brush off the flies, could they ? " 
 
 " Not very well." 
 
 " Wouldn't it be funny if horses could sit down just 
 like people. I saw a horse do it in a circus, once. Did 
 you ever go to a circus ? " 
 
 " Yes, many times," replied Weston. Then turning 
 to Louise he said: 
 
 " Do you know where I'm going? " 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " To the top of the hill where you can look out over 
 the ocean, and see our island. Do you ever think of 
 the time we spent there?" 
 
 " Yes," she replied, the blood mounting to her cheek. 
 " I shall never forget it." 
 
 " But your memory of it differs from mine," he said 
 musingly. " For you it was a time of peril and dis- 
 tress; to me it was a period of delight. I thoroughly
 
 248 THE STAKE 
 
 enjoyed the storm and danger. It was a real pleasure 
 to know that I was shut out from all the world, ex- 
 cept you." 
 
 His voice sank almost to a whisper. She was silent, 
 with averted face. 
 
 " The picture is incomplete without you," he added 
 softly. 
 
 " But what did you have to eat ? " exclaimed Dicky. 
 
 " The question of food was the least of our troubles," 
 laughed Weston, " although our last meal finished the 
 crumbs. What would you have done with a hungry 
 young lady to take care of, and nothing left to eat? " 
 
 " They could have eaten each other," suggested Dicky, 
 after a moment's deliberation. 
 
 " That would have been pleasant, of course," re- 
 marked Weston soberly. " But the young lady might 
 have objected." 
 
 " Not if she was very hungry." 
 
 " Suppose the gentleman was very tough ? " 
 
 " Dicky ! " cried Louise, in desperation. " You hor- 
 rible boy ! One would think you were a cannibal. Mr. 
 Weston, you shouldn't encourage him in such talk." 
 
 " Are you angry with me, Aunt Louise ? " asked 
 Dicky penitently. " Your face is all red." 
 
 " I think we are far enough up the hill," declared 
 Weston. " Look back, Miss Ellsworth. Can you see 
 that black spot the farthest of all the islands ? That's 
 the place." 
 
 " It seems a long distance," said Louise. " It's hard 
 for me to imagine its real appearance." 
 
 " And yet it is the same barren rock with the waves
 
 THE STAKE 249 
 
 washing its base, and the sea-gulls circling about the 
 cliffs; and on the top is the little cabin, just as we left 
 it." 
 
 "And what else?" inquired Dicky. 
 
 " Mr. Crusoe," replied Weston, gazing dreamily into 
 the distance. 
 
 Dicky burst into merry laughter. 
 
 " Oh, you funny man ! How could you leave your- 
 self ? We'll have to go out to the island and hunt for 
 you. Say, wouldn't that be fun? Let's do it." 
 
 Weston turned to the boy and smiled. 
 
 " That's a bright idea. Ask Aunt Louise if she'll go 
 with us." 
 
 " Will you, Aunt Louise ? " cried the boy. " Come 
 on ! It'll be lots of fun." 
 
 " I thought we had found Mr. Crusoe," said Louise, 
 hardly daring to look at Weston. 
 
 " No, we haven't ! No, we haven't ! We've got to 
 go to the island to find him. Come on. Won't you 
 go?" 
 
 " We'll talk to mamma about it." 
 
 "All right! We'll take mamma, and and had 
 we better take Mr. Travis ? " 
 
 " We might ask him," remarked Weston. 
 
 " He gets cross, sometimes, but I suppose we'll have 
 to take him," decided Dicky, thoughtfully. " Can we 
 go to-morrow ? " 
 
 " Not to-morrow," replied Weston. " But the next 
 day if it's pleasant. To-morrow, I must drive the stage 
 again. And, by the way, it's time we returned. I must 
 take the horses back. It's time for their supper."
 
 250 THE STAKE 
 
 " I thought you invited me to supper, too," said 
 Dicky. 
 
 " Did I ? Come to think of it, I believe I did. We'll 
 stop at Mrs. Guilford's and warn her that she must 
 prepare for two hungry men." 
 
 " And Aunt Louise ? " inquired Dicky. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, if she will join us," replied Weston, 
 turning to Louise, with an invitation in his eyes. 
 
 " Mrs. Guilford will have her hands full, without the 
 addition of my ravenous appetite," replied Louise. 
 " You seem to take it for granted that she can entertain 
 any number of guests on short notice." 
 
 " You don't know her," said Weston. " She thor- 
 oughly enjoys emergencies." 
 
 " Just the same, I don't care to force myself upon her 
 hospitality without an invitation." 
 
 " But I have invited you," insisted Weston. " It 
 would be jolly fun to take supper with the old couple, 
 and I would take you home early." 
 
 Louise was amused at his boyish enthusiasm, but ad- 
 hered to her decision, so they rode on down the hill 
 without any further reference to the question of sup- 
 per. At last Weston turned the horses in at a gate, 
 and drove up to the door of the farmhouse. 
 
 " Here we are," he cried. " Now we'll let Mrs. Guil- 
 ford settle it." 
 
 The sound of wheels and voices brought that good 
 woman to the door, where she stood with hands on hips, 
 peering through her spectacles, and smiling cheerfully. 
 
 " Waal ! So ye've come, hev ye ? " she called. " We 
 were gittin' afeard ye'd hed a breakdown. Ezry was
 
 THE STAKE 251 
 
 fer hitchin' up th' mare, an' goin' t' hunt ye up. Who's 
 thet with ye?" 
 
 " This is Miss Ellsworth, you met her at the hotel 
 last night, and this is Master Dick Carson, a young 
 gentleman with a large appetite." 
 
 "Ye don't say! Glad t' see ye, Miss Ellwood. 
 Ain't ye comin' in? Supper's purty near ready." 
 
 " What ! All of us ? " exclaimed Weston, in a tone 
 of surprise. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " But there are three of us." 
 
 " I don't care ef there's three hunnerd of ye. They's 
 allus vittles enough in this house, thank the Lord." 
 
 " What did I say ? " cried Weston triumphantly, turn- 
 ing to Louise. 
 
 " What didn't you say ? " she replied, laughing. 
 " Mrs. Guilford, I'm not going to let Mr. Weston im- 
 pose on you. He was rash enough to invite me to your 
 house to supper, and of course I refused. Now he has 
 inveigled you into asking me. What do you think of 
 that?" 
 
 " I think ye'd all better come in, an' not stay out here 
 talkin' about it. I've got to make some biscuits yet." 
 
 " Biscuits ! " cried Weston, springing from the wagon, 
 and holding up his hands to Louise. " That settles it 
 Come ! You can't resist that." 
 
 She looked down upon him with hesitation in her 
 eyes. 
 
 " I feel ashamed to do this," she declared. Then 
 placing her hands in his, she sprang to the ground. 
 
 " It's just lovely of you," she said to Mrs. Guilford,
 
 252 THE STAKE 
 
 as that lady received her with a hearty hand-shake. " I 
 really would like to stay to supper, but it almost seems 
 as if I had invited myself." 
 
 " Shucks, child ! We ain't proud ! Come inside. 
 Ezry'll be glad t' see ye." 
 
 They entered the house, while Weston drove the 
 horses to the stable. 
 
 " Ezry ! Ezry ! Here's comp'ny ! " cried Mrs. Guil- 
 ford, as they came into the room which served as a gen- 
 eral living-room. " Make ye acquainted with Miss 
 Ellwell, and and whut's yer name, sonny ? " 
 
 " My name is Louise Ellsworth, and this is Dicky 
 Carson," said Louise, advancing to where Squire Guil- 
 ford was sitting in his easy chair. " Don't get up, Mr. 
 Guilford. I know you are not feeling well. You re- 
 member me, don't you ? " 
 
 " Shorely ! Shorely ! " exclaimed the squire, strug- 
 gling to rise to his feet, and unable to smother a groan, 
 as a twinge of rheumatism caught him, and forced him 
 to drop back in his chair. 
 
 " Set daown ! " he added, waving his hand to a seat. 
 " Come here, young feller. Seen any more lions lately 
 the kind ye turn inside out ? " 
 
 He gave a hoarse chuckle, and Dicky eyed him 
 soberly. 
 
 " That wasn't a true story," said the boy ; " I meant 
 to tell you." 
 
 " Ye don't say so," remarked the squire, with a heavy 
 sigh of relief. " Waal ! Waal ! Waal ! " 
 
 " Now make yers'lf t' hum," said Mrs. Guilford, as 
 she took Louise's hat and coat. " I've got a little cook-
 
 THE STAKE 253 
 
 in' t' do fust, an' then I'll come back an' visit with ye." 
 
 " Can't I go with you ? " begged Louise. " We can 
 visit while you are cooking, and perhaps I could help 
 you." 
 
 "Help me! Whut fer? Cookin' ain't hard work. 
 Jes' throw a little flour and water together, with some 
 saleratus, an' stir in milk, with a dab o' short'nin' 
 an' seasoning an' there's yer biscuits. Put a drawin' 
 o' tea on th' back o' th' stove. Slice a few p'tatoes in a 
 skillet. Cut a ham. An' there's yer supper. They's 
 doughnuts an' sweet-cakes in th' but'ry, an' a jar o' 
 plums in th' cellar. I vum ! I fergot about th' straw- 
 berries. We jes' got a two-quart pail o' field berries, 
 an' we can use some o' th' biscuit-dough fer shortcake. 
 Come on, Miss Ellison. If you want t' help, ye can 
 hull th' berries, while I'm mixing th' dough." 
 
 " I ought to be able to do that," laughed Louise, as 
 she followed her hostess into the kitchen, just as Wes- 
 ton entered the room by the other door. 
 
 " Ev'nin', Dick ! " said the squire. 
 
 " Good evening, Squire. How are you feeling to- 
 night?" 
 
 " Perkin' up consid'ble, seein' 's they's purty girls 
 'round. Haow do ye like stagin' ? " 
 
 "All right. But there were no passengers to-day." 
 
 " I see ye picked up one, though," grinned the squire, 
 with an expressive wink in the direction of the kitchen. 
 " Wuth a hull passel o' the ord'nary run, ain't she ? " 
 
 Weston glanced at Dicky, who was absorbed in con- 
 templation of an old musket, hanging on the wall, and 
 then nodded his reply so expressively, that the squire
 
 254 THE STAKE 
 
 in a moment of gleeful abstraction, brought his hand 
 down with a whack upon his knee, and then gave a 
 groan of pain. 
 
 " Plague take this rheumatiz ! " he growled. " I guess 
 ye'll hev t' take my place ag'in to-morrer." 
 
 "Of course!" replied Weston. "I expected to do 
 so." 
 
 " After to-morrer, if I'm still laid up, Sile c'n 'tend 
 to it. He'll be through mowin' by thet time. He'd ha' 
 finished to-day, if it wan't fer th' rain." 
 
 "Does that gun go off?" inquired Dicky, pointing 
 to the musket. 
 
 " It hes done some shootin' in its day," remarked the 
 squire, casting a look of pride at the old weapon. " But 
 it's got rheumatiz in its bones, same as I hev, an' ain't 
 good fer much. We're gittin' old together." 
 
 " I suppose it makes a noise," said Dicky, thought- 
 fully. 
 
 " Like thunder an' light'nin ! " replied the squire. 
 
 " Did it ever kill a man ? " inquired the boy, 
 blinking slowly. 
 
 " Lots on 'em. Deader'n a doornail." 
 
 " My ! " gasped Dicky, backing away from the wall, 
 with his eyes fastened upon the silent messenger of 
 fate. 
 
 " An' ev'ry time it killed a man, it hollered an' kicked 
 like mad." 
 
 " Were you in the war? " asked Weston. 
 
 " Four year," replied the squire, straightening his 
 shoulders, and holding his head erect. " An' never got 
 hit oncet," he added with a sigh.
 
 THE STAKE 255 
 
 " That was lucky." 
 
 "Didn't seem nat'ral, though." 
 
 " You ought to be thankful.' 
 
 " I suppose I orter, but somehow it seems 's though 
 a man ain't done much fer his country, 'thout spill in' 
 a leetle blood. I didn't even git scratched. The near- 
 est I come to it was when me an' four other fellers 
 got ambushed down near Richmond. That was in the 
 Wilderness fight. Ole Grant, he was a-shovin' us 
 for'ard an inch at a time, an' I guess we thought it was 
 too slow. Anyhow, we fellers was doin' a leetle scout- 
 in' 'tween th' lines, an' went too fur. They was about 
 fifty on 'em. They hollered * surrender,' an' one of 
 our fellers yelled 'go t' hell.' (Excuse me fer sayin' 
 a swear-word, but that was jes' what I what our 
 man said.) An' it was hell fer a few minutes. I don't 
 know haow I got away, but I did. An' th' darn cusses 
 never touched me oncet. Jes' shot off my cap, an' tore 
 a hole through my coat, an' split th' stock o' my gun. 
 Ye c'n see it now." 
 
 He pointed to the musket, his face lighted up with 
 the memory of the fight. 
 
 " And your companions ? " inquired Weston. 
 
 "Killed! Ev'ry one on 'em." 
 
 " Oh, my ! " gasped Dicky, gazing at the squire, with 
 eyes and mouth wide open. Then after a moment's 
 pause, he added: 
 
 " That's a better story than mine." 
 
 "Yes, my lad! And th' wust of it is, th' story's 
 true." 
 
 The old man shook his head sadly, and sat for a few
 
 256 THE STAKE 
 
 minutes in silence. Suddenly the kitchen door opened 
 and Mrs. Guilford entered with a tray of dishes. 
 
 " Seems t' me," she cried, " ye ain't very sociable, 
 settin' here solemn as spooks. I s'pose ye're hungry. 
 Waal, supper'll be ready in a few minutes now. Me 
 an' Louise has got th' shortcake in th' oven. Ye see 
 I call her Louise now. She tol' me to, 'cause I can't 
 never remember her other name." 
 
 It was a merry party which surrounded the table, 
 soon afterwards. Weston and Louise sat beside each 
 other, a maneuver skillfully executed by Mrs. Guil- 
 ford, who took one final look over the table, before sit- 
 ting down on the edge of her chair, which was placed 
 far enough from the table to enable her to make an 
 easy run for the kitchen. 
 
 " Ask th' blessin', Ezry," she said, and the squire 
 mumbled a grace, short enough to satisfy even Dicky, 
 who was eyeing impatiently the plate of hot biscuit, and 
 the honey which was to go with them. 
 
 With cheeks blazing from the heat of the kitchen 
 stove, and eyes sparkling with pleasure, Louise was a 
 picture of beauty. The unconventionality of the oc- 
 casion seemed to remove the last trace of that embar- 
 rassment which she had felt in Weston's presence. It 
 seemed the most natural thing in the world, that they 
 should be sitting side by side, and she calmly accepted 
 the devotion which he showed in every word and act. 
 
 " Ye must ha' got some o' th' strawberries on yer 
 cheeks, Miss," remarked the squire. " An' it becomes 
 ye mighty well. I guess they's others thinks th' same, 
 too."
 
 THE STAKE 257 
 
 He chuckled to himself and winked knowingly to 
 Weston. 
 
 " Ezry ! " exclaimed Mrs. Guilford, frowning and 
 shaking her head. " Yew ain't licensed t' speak that 
 way t' Miss Ell Ell drat it I allus git mixed on 
 names." 
 
 "Oh, ho! Gittin' jealous, air ye?" inquired the 
 squire with a grin. " Don't blame ye. A purty face 
 allus turns my head. Thet was what happened when I 
 married you." 
 
 " Now, that was a lovely compliment," remarked 
 Louise, smiling at Mrs. Guilford. " You ought to be 
 proud of such a husband." 
 
 " Oh, shucks ! He's jes' jokin'," said Mrs. Guilford, 
 smoothing back her hair, and straightening the black 
 ribbon at her throat. " Though I ain't sayin' but 
 Ezry's been a good husband. Forty years we've lived 
 together, an' got along peaceable. I hope your husband 
 will suit you as well." 
 
 " If ever I have one," said Louise, bending over her 
 plate. 
 
 " I'll marry you, Aunt Louise," mumbled Dicky, with 
 a mouth full of cottage cheese. 
 
 " Good ! Good ! " cried the squire, sitting back in 
 his chair and roaring with laughter. " Have some more 
 ham an' 'taters, young feller. Yew've got t' grow fast, 
 or somebody '11 git ahead of ye, an' steal yer gal." 
 
 " Do you realize, Miss Ellsworth," said Weston, anx- 
 ious to relieve her embarrassment, " that this isn't the 
 first time you have enjoyed Mrs. Guilford's fine cook- 
 ing. It was her forethought which provided the lunch,
 
 258 THE STAKE 
 
 that famous lunch which saved us from starvation, 
 when we were marooned on the island." 
 
 " There ! " cried Mrs. Guilford. " I'm glad you re- 
 minded me of it. I want you, Miss Ellbert, t' tell us 
 about your bein' on the island together. Mr. Weston, 
 he wouldn't ever say much about it. Jes' said ye was 
 shipwrecked, an' he found ye, an' kind o' took care o' 
 ye, 'til he c'd git ye ashore." 
 
 " Is that all he told you ? " said Louise with height- 
 ened color. 
 
 " Mighty little he would say," exclaimed the squire. 
 
 " Then you shall hear it from me." 
 
 " Be careful now," laughed Weston, " I am here, a 
 witness to the truth." 
 
 " Go on, Aunt Louise," cried Dicky, his interest, for 
 the moment, overcoming his appetite. 
 
 With a slight hesitation, at first, but soon speaking 
 with clear voice, Louise told the dramatic story in which 
 she and the man at her side were the sole actors. In 
 her desire to bear witness in his presence, to the sin- 
 cerity of her gratitude, and to justify herself for her 
 apparent neglect and indifference, she magnified his 
 deeds and his services, until she unconsciously betrayed 
 a depth of feeling which surprised even herself. When 
 she came to the end of her story, she turned a fright- 
 ened glance towards Weston, her voice faltered, and 
 she suddenly rose from the table. 
 
 " That's all," she murmured. "I I must go home 
 now. Come, Dicky." 
 
 " Do I have to go now ? " complained the boy. 
 " We've just got started telling stories."
 
 THE STAKE 259 
 
 " Yes," replied the girl nervously, " your mamma 
 will be wondering what has become of us." 
 
 " I hate t' hev ye go so soon," said Mrs. Guilford, 
 cordially. " Seems 's though ye hedn't eat hardly any- 
 thin'." 
 
 "It has been a delicious supper," declared Louise, 
 smiling, as she began to regain her self-possession. " I 
 really ought to stay and help you clear off the table. 
 But I'm coming again, if I may." 
 
 " Come 's often 's ye can, my dear. I never hed a 
 daughter of my own, an* I seem t' hev took t' you 's 
 if I wuz yer mother." 
 
 " It's very sweet of you to say so," replied the girl, 
 as she put on her hat. 
 
 Weston, who had stood in silence, watching her with 
 a look of absorbed interest, came forward and took 
 her wrap from her. 
 
 " Wait a moment," he said, " until I get the car- 
 riage." 
 
 " It isn't necessary," she replied. " We can walk just 
 as well, can't we, Dicky ? " 
 
 " But you will let me go with you ? " 
 
 " It isn't dark. Dicky and I can find our way." 
 
 "May I go?" 
 
 "If if you care to." 
 
 In that walk to the hotel, the silence of the summer 
 evening was almost unbroken, save for the merry chat- 
 ter of Dicky, who danced gayly beside the dreaming 
 lovers, like some twentieth century Cupid. The rays 
 of the setting sun, darting through rifts in the scattering 
 storm-clouds, seemed to tint the atmosphere about them
 
 260 THE STAKE 
 
 a roseate hue; along the pathway down the hill, the 
 fragrance of the wild-flowers rose like incense; from 
 the top of a tree, a grosbeak sang joyously to his mate. 
 It was a time for romantic fancies, and the two yielded 
 to the spell of the hour. 
 
 As they approached the hotel, the sound of voices and 
 laughter aroused them from their dreams, and Louise, 
 hastening her steps, said nervously : 
 
 " We must hurry, Dicky. Your mother will wonder 
 what has become of us." 
 
 " She knows we're with Mr. Crusoe," cried the boy, 
 " so she needn't be afraid. You're kind o' like one of 
 the family, ain't you, Mr. Crusoe ? " 
 
 Then without waiting to see the effect of this happy 
 suggestion, he ran ahead of them, exclaiming: 
 
 " There's mamma now, sitting with Mr. Travis." 
 
 At the foot of the steps Weston paused. 
 
 " I'll have to say good night here," he said. 
 
 " Aren't you coming in ? " asked Louise. 
 
 " Not now. I'm hardly presentable after my day on 
 the stage." 
 
 He held out his hand. She allowed hers to rest in it 
 for a moment, and then withdrawing it gently, said : 
 
 " Good night, Mr. Crusoe."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 ALL nature seemed jubilant in the bright light of a 
 perfect June day. The earth, refreshed by the 
 storm of yesterday, was fragrant with the moist odor 
 of the grass and the wild flowers. In every tree-top 
 birds were singing joyfully. Overhead, swallows poised 
 and swooped in delight of freedom. Across the open, 
 sped thrush and lark in straight-away flight. The 
 robins strutted over the turf, feasting upon a new sup- 
 ply of worms, which the rain had brought to the sur- 
 face. A quail, perched upon a fence-post, uttered its two 
 flute-like notes, and flew away, as the stage rattled along 
 the rocky road. 
 
 In the heart of Dick Weston the voices of nature 
 found a responsive echo. Happy in the full knowledge 
 of his love for Louise Ellsworth, he tried to recall each 
 word she had spoken the evening before, and sought for 
 some assurance that his love was returned. In spite 
 of a feeling that she was not indifferent to him that 
 perhaps she loved him, there came the fear that he 
 had mistaken gratitude for a deeper sentiment. 
 
 But he put this disturbing thought aside, and took 
 courage from the strength of his own love, confident 
 that it must finally win. 
 
 At the station, the horses halted in their usual place, 
 and Weston, springing from the stage, carried the mail-
 
 262 THE STAKE 
 
 pouch to the front, where he found the perspiring Abner 
 busy loading a truck for the down train, which was due 
 in a few minutes. 
 
 " Haow air ye to-day ? " inquired the overworked of- 
 ficial, pausing a moment to wipe his brow. " Haow's 
 th' square gittin' along?" 
 
 " Not so well this morning," replied Weston. 
 
 " He's been poorly fer 'most a week naow," drawled 
 Abner. " Gittin' old, I s'pose. I tol' him only las' 
 Sat'day week, he orter lay off, an' give th' job to some 
 one else. Jes' 's soon take it myself. It's kind o' lonely 
 'raound here, an' mean hours, an' darn hard work. It 
 beats all haow an ol' feller like th' square'll hang on an' 
 hang on." 
 
 The shrill whistle of the south-bound train put a stop 
 to his complaining, and he wheeled the truck down the 
 platform, leaving Weston standing idly watching the 
 approaching locomotive. There was the noise of escap- 
 ing steam, the whistle of the airbrakes, one or two 
 shrieks from the reluctant wheels, and the train stopped. 
 Weston exchanged indifferent glances with the row of 
 strange faces at the windows, while the impatient con- 
 ductor watched the loading and unloading of express 
 matter, ready to give the signal to the engineer as soon 
 as possible. No passengers alighted. One or two came 
 out upon the platform and gazed curiously at the al- 
 most deserted station, wondering, no doubt, how any- 
 one could choose to live in such a spot. There was a 
 shout from the conductor, a clanging of the bell, the 
 train moved slowly away, and Abner with bent shoul- 
 ders, and an expression of despair upon his face,
 
 THE STAKE 263 
 
 dragged the heavily-loaded truck along the platform to 
 the depot. 
 
 " I'm gittin' darn tired o' this," he grumbled, as he 
 dropped the heavy handle of the truck, and looked down 
 the road at the retreating train. " I'd ruther do har- 
 vestin'." 
 
 "Why don't you quit?" asked Weston good-na- 
 turedly. " I don't blame you for disliking the work. 
 Why don't you try to find another job ? " 
 
 " Ain't got time," drawled Abner, helplessly. " Got 
 a wife an' baby in there, an' dassent leave 'em." 
 
 " But you'll have to make a start some time, unless 
 you expect to stay here all your life." 
 
 The man cast a weary look at the pile of boxes to be 
 transferred to the freight-room, and said with a sigh: 
 
 " Gosh ! I wish I could, but I don't know how tV 
 
 Weston smothered an exclamation of disgust. He 
 could understand the craving of the human soul, am- 
 bitious to succeed and desirous of advancement, but he 
 had no sympathy for a fault-finder who would make 
 no effort to break away from his discontent. Like 
 many a young man just starting out in his career, with 
 health, education, ample means, and no obligations, he 
 had no thought for those obstacles and hindrances 
 which meet a man throughout his life, disappoint- 
 ments and defeats, not anticipated, but likely to come 
 to anyone. 
 
 Although his own plans had been interrupted by his 
 illness, he had learned, in response to his inquiries, 
 that the position promised him was still open. As he 
 looked at the poor station master, laboriously loading
 
 264 THE STAKE 
 
 his truck for the next train, he compared, with some 
 self-satisfaction, this man's lot with his own. 
 
 "What a fate!" he thought "Exiled for life in 
 such a forlorn spot! To see daily the faces of men 
 of all conditions of life roll by on those shining rails, 
 bound upon business or pleasure, upon errands of 
 mercy or of sorrow; seeking fortune or fame; jour- 
 neying up and down the earth in restless activity; to 
 see all this, and, standing idly by, to take root in the 
 obscurity of a country way station! What a life to 
 lead ! " Weston thought of the man's hopeless accept- 
 ance of his fate, of the wife and child deprived of so 
 much which would make their lives more beautiful, and 
 there came to him the sudden thrilling thought of the 
 woman he loved. His wife ! Dared he hope for such 
 happiness? If only she could be his, what would he 
 not do for her! 
 
 " There she comes ! " shouted Abner. 
 
 "Who?" exclaimed Weston, springing to his feet 
 in bewilderment. 
 
 " Th' express. Can't ye hear her ? " 
 
 " Oh ! The express ! " said Weston lamely. 
 
 " Yes. She's doo at two-forty-seven. It's two- 
 fifty-six now. 'Baout ten minutes late." 
 
 He rolled his truck to the other end of the platform, 
 while Weston, impatient to be leaving, stood with his 
 hands in his pockets and watched the train as it rolled 
 majestically alongside of the station. Three coaches, 
 a dining car, a parlor car, and a sleeper, vestibuled and 
 furnished with the latest appliances, with the attendant 
 baggage and express cars, made up the celebrated
 
 THE STAKE 265 
 
 " Coast Express." Within its dusty and grimy exterior 
 it carried each day the luxurious appointments of a 
 princely home, through towns and villages where the 
 lives of men were spent amidst the commonest sur- 
 roundings; carried its magnificence of polished metal, 
 rich tapestries, and inlaid woodwork across deserted 
 landscapes of sand and marsh and rock; perhaps on 
 some fatal day to leave its shattered elegance, a heap 
 of worthless junk, in some isolated spot, an offering of 
 human lives and human energies to the great speed- 
 god. 
 
 From the sleeping car there alighted a dignified and 
 portly gentleman obsequiously attended by the porter, 
 while from the parlor car stepped another passenger 
 with suit-case in hand. As Weston observed this latter 
 gentleman, he uttered an exclamation of surprise, and 
 came forward with outstretched hand. 
 
 " Dr. Stewart ! " he exclaimed. " What brings you 
 here?" 
 
 "What? You, Jenkins?" replied the doctor, with 
 a cordial hand-shake. " Well, well ! You've certainly 
 improved in appearance since I last saw you. I must 
 have done an extra fine job in your case." 
 
 " Perhaps you'd like to increase the size of your 
 bill," said Weston, laughing. 
 
 " Your friend from out West settled that question. 
 By the way, are you still Bill Jenkins, or 
 
 " Beg pardon ! " remarked a voice at his elbow. 
 " Could you inform me why, Stewart ! Is this 
 you?" 
 
 " Senator Ellsworth ! " exclaimed the doctor in sur-
 
 266 THE STAKE 
 
 prise. "Where in the world did you come from? 
 Were you on this train ? " 
 
 " Yes, in the sleeper." 
 
 " And I was in the parlor car." 
 
 " Sorry I missed you," remarked the senator, as the 
 train moved away. Then stopping the station master 
 as he passed them, dragging his usual burden, he said : 
 
 " My good fellow ! How am I to get to a to 
 let me see what is the name of the place " 
 
 " Atherton's Cove ? " suggested the doctor. 
 
 " Yes. That's it. Well, how can I get there? " 
 
 " He'll take ye over in th' stage," replied Abner, in- 
 dicating Weston with a jerk of his head, and contin- 
 uing onward with his burden. 
 
 " If you gentlemen are both bound for Atherton's 
 Cove," remarked Weston, " you'll find the stage back 
 of the depot. I'll be along as soon as I get the mail- 
 bag." 
 
 " Well, be quick about it, young man," said the sen- 
 ator. " I have an important business engagement, and 
 mustn't be delayed. And just bring those two bags 
 of mine with you. Come, Stewart, let's see what kind 
 of a conveyance we have." 
 
 The two gentlemen passed on around the corner of 
 the depot, leaving Weston standing irresolutely gazing 
 at the two heavy bags which the porter had left at 
 the farthest end of the platform. With a shrug of his 
 shoulders, he accepted the task, laughing to himself as 
 he thought of the important business which called Sen- 
 ator Ellsworth to the Cove. 
 
 " I'll tell Rankin to add another fifty dollars to his
 
 THE STAKE 267 
 
 price, just to pay me for this job," He muttered, as he 
 picked up the senator's luggage. 
 
 " Is this the best you can do for us ? " inquired the 
 senator sharply, as Weston reached the stage and 
 threw his burden on the front seat. 
 
 " The senator is used to rubber tires," remarked 
 Stewart, an amused expression on his face, as he ob- 
 served the frown with which Weston received his com- 
 panion's complaint. 
 
 "I'm sorry," replied Weston, dryly. "This is the 
 only conveyance to Atherton's." 
 
 "An enterprising fellow with a carriage would run 
 you out in no time," said the senator, as he climbed into 
 the stage. 
 
 Weston shrugged his shoulders, but made no other 
 reply. 
 
 " Come, come ! " exclaimed the senator. " You're 
 wasting time. Get in and start your horses. If we 
 must ride in this old ramshackle affair, let's get through 
 with it as soon as possible. And see here! Put those 
 bags down on the floor, and keep your eye on them. 
 I don't want them to fall out. What are you laughing 
 at, Stewart?" 
 
 Weston, who at first was inclined to resent the 
 senator's overbearing manner, caught the sparkle of 
 merriment in the doctor's eye, saw the ludicrous side 
 of the situation, and joined in the laughter. 
 
 " This may be very entertaining for you and this 
 man," remarked the senator with frigid dignity, " but 
 it is very annoying to me, for I'm in a hurry." 
 
 " Go on, Bill Jenkins," cried the doctor, as W'eston
 
 268 THE STAKE 
 
 gathered up the lines and started the horses. " You're 
 still under my orders, if you have paid your bill." 
 
 " Oh ! " said the senator, thawing slightly. " A 
 patient of yours, eh ? " 
 
 " Yes. But one of your own making," said the doc- 
 tor with a laugh. 
 
 "How's that?" 
 
 "Don't you remember the celebrated Bill Jenkins?" 
 
 "Jenkins? The name does sound familiar." 
 
 " The victim of a bad accident, in which he was 
 run down in the streets of Boston by Senator Ells- 
 worth's carriage ? " 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed the senator. " You don't mean 
 it ! Here, my man ! " 
 
 He leaned forward, and tapped Weston on the back. 
 
 " What is it ? " inquired the latter, turning slightly. 
 
 "Are you the man who was injured? sure enough, 
 so you are. I remember your face, now. Glad to see 
 you again, my poor fellow, and looking so well, too. 
 How are you getting on ? And your family how are 
 they? I always intended to do something for you, but 
 Mrs. Carson took charge of you, and the matter passed 
 out of my mind. Did I understand you to say, Doctor, 
 that he paid your bill? I can't allow that. Let me 
 know the amount, and I'll send him a check for it. Is 
 there anything else I can do for you, Jenkins ? " 
 
 " Thank you kindly, sir," began Weston, disposed to 
 ridicule the proposition. Then remembering that it 
 was Louise's father speaking that his offer was made 
 in a spirit of kindness, and that his rudeness was due 
 tc ignorance of the facts, he said decidedly :
 
 THE STAKE 269 
 
 "You owe me nothing. Dr. Stewart's bill was paid 
 by a friend of mine." 
 
 The senator turned to his companion, who nodded his 
 head, and changed the subject by inquiring of Weston: 
 
 " How far do we have to go? " 
 
 " About ten miles," replied Weston, and the two 
 passengers with looks of mingled disgust and resigna- 
 tion, settled back in their seats, in silent endurance of 
 the ordeal. 
 
 " Can't you touch up your horses a little, Jenkins ? " 
 suggested the senator, after they had been driving for 
 an hour. 
 
 " This is the last hill," replied Weston. " It's down 
 grade after we reach the top." 
 
 At the point where the first sight of the ocean sud- 
 denly burst into view, the horses stopped as usual, and 
 Weston, to whom the scene was always a delight, made 
 no effort to start them. 
 
 " Well, what are we stopping for, now ? " ex- 
 claimed the senator, impatiently. 
 
 Weston made no reply, and they continued on down 
 the hill. 
 
 " Fine view, Senator," remarked the doctor, upon 
 whom the scene made an impression, even though it 
 were lost upon his companion. 
 
 " Very fine," replied the senator, with an indifferent 
 glance over the landscape. " Driver, which is the best 
 hotel in your town?" 
 
 " There is only one the ' Ocean View/ " answered 
 Weston. 
 
 " Only one ? I thought this was a summer resort ! "
 
 270 THE STAKE 
 
 " It is, for a few persons who are fond of the place." 
 
 " And only one hotel," mused the senator. 
 " Crowded, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Not now." 
 
 " The situation does look attractive, Stewart," said 
 the senator, casting his eyes about. " It might be 
 made into a popular resort. A well-managed company 
 might boom the place with a little effort; put up an- 
 other hotel, have it advertised as a health-resort 
 salt baths sun baths hum ah I may look into 
 this." 
 
 In due time the stage drew up in front of the hotel, 
 and Weston, searching among the groups of boarders 
 sitting upon the piazza, was able to distinguish Louise 
 Ellsworth standing beside Travis. Although her face 
 was turned towards him, and she must have known of 
 his presence, he could not catch her eye. He felt sure 
 that she saw him, and yet she continued talking and 
 laughing with Travis, appearing to give no thought 
 to the man who sat there looking up to her with the 
 hunger of love in his eyes, and a cloud of disappoint* 
 ment creeping over his face. 
 
 " Come, come, driver ! Why don't you get my bags 
 out ? " exclaimed Senator Ellsworth, who had alighted 
 from the stage. 
 
 " Here they are," said Weston gruffly, lifting the bags 
 within reach. 
 
 " But you don't expect me to carry them in, do 
 you?" 
 
 "Just set them down. The porter will get them," 
 replied Weston, shortly.
 
 THE STAKE 271 
 
 At this moment there was a cry of surprise, a rustle 
 of skirts, and Louise came running down the steps. 
 
 " Oh, you dear old daddy ! " she cried, as she threw 
 her arms about her father's neck. " Why didn't you 
 tell me you were coming to-day ? " 
 
 " Didn't you get my telegram ? " 
 
 " Telegram ? " exclaimed Travis, who had joined the 
 group. " Telegrams don't reach this place. You 
 might as well be in the Desert of Sahara, so far as com- 
 munication with the rest of the world is concerned." 
 
 " Here, porter, take these bags," called Weston 
 sharply from his seat on the stage. 
 
 Travis glanced at his rival with a grin; the senator 
 looked sourly at his unruly driver ; but Louise appeared 
 to give no heed to the man sitting only a few feet from 
 her, who was waiting for some sign of recognition, 
 until, just as he picked up the lines to start his horses, 
 he heard her say: 
 
 " Shall we see you this evening?" 
 
 He turned and found her looking up at him, with a 
 demure expression on her face, back of which he 
 thought he detected a spirit of mischief. He hesitated 
 a moment, uncertain of her mood. 
 
 " Come, Louise," called her father from the top of 
 the steps. 
 
 For an instant Weston caught a glance, in which 
 were mingled coquetry, merriment, and a smile of re- 
 assurance. A low voice said : 
 
 " We shall expect you, Mr. Crusoe." 
 
 The next moment she was running up the steps to 
 join her father and Travis.
 
 272 THE STAKE 
 
 " Were you talking with that driver, Louise ? " in- 
 quired the senator, with a frown. 
 
 "Yes, but" 
 
 " You make strange acquaintances," continued her 
 father. 
 
 " But Father, dear, do you know who he is ? " she 
 pleaded. 
 
 " Yes, yes ! I heard his whole story," replied the 
 senator, impatiently, as they went into the hotel. " I 
 offered to pay him liberally." 
 
 " Did you ? " exclaimed Travis, with sudden interest. 
 "Would he accept?" 
 
 " No, he wouldn't name any figure, so I didn't dis- 
 cuss it any further." 
 
 " It's no use," said Travis, shaking his head. " I 
 know how stubborn he is." 
 
 " Well, let's drop that subject," said the senator, with 
 decision. " Louise, will you look after my things, and 
 see that I have a good room? Mr. Travis and I have 
 some business together." 
 
 " Now, Travis," said he, when they had retired to 
 a secluded spot, " where's your man ? I want to get 
 at this business right away." 
 
 " I'll have him here as soon as possible. Of course, 
 I couldn't tell when you would come, so I made no 
 appointment with him." 
 
 " Get word to him at once. Let me see. It's five 
 o'clock now. Better have him here at seven. He can 
 wait if I'm not through dinner." 
 
 Travis smiled to himself as he went in search of 
 Rankin, and could not repress a wish that the senator
 
 THE STAKE 273 
 
 might fail in his negotiations, if only to prove the dif- 
 ficulty under which he himself had labored. Rankin 
 was no easy proposition. 
 
 Meanwhile, at the farthest end of the piazza, Dr. 
 Stewart was trying to explain to Mrs. Carson the rea- 
 son for his unexpected appearance. 
 
 " You see, I was in doubt from your letter as to 
 Miss Ellsworth's real condition. A man in my pro- 
 fession must take no chances. It really seemed best 
 that I see her." 
 
 " It's too bad that I should have brought you here 
 for nothing," remarked Mrs. Carson, sweetly. " Louise 
 is perfectly well. She has found another physician, 
 one she likes better." 
 
 "Indeed! Who is it?" 
 
 " Mr. Weston." 
 
 "Has it gone that far?" 
 
 " It is nearing the climax." 
 
 " Then I won't be needed." 
 
 " No, Doctor, I'm afraid your journey was for 
 nothing." 
 
 " Perhaps not," said Stewart. " I haven't been 
 feeling just right myself for several days. The change 
 may do me good." 
 
 " You are overtaxing your strength," said the widow. 
 " You need an assistant." 
 
 " I came to that conclusion some time ago," said 
 he, looking down at her and smiling frankly. 
 
 Mrs. Carson blushed, and turning quickly away, 
 called to Dicky, who was bounding a ball against the 
 side of the house.
 
 274 THE STAKE 
 
 " Be careful of the windows, Dicky. Here is Dr. 
 Stewart. Won't you speak to him ? " 
 
 " How do you do, sir ? " said Dicky, continuing his 
 play. 
 
 " Are you having a good time here, Dicky ? " called 
 the doctor. 
 
 " There's nobody to play with except Mr. Crusoe, 
 and he's got to drive the stage." 
 
 Stewart turned to Mrs. Carson. 
 
 " Your hero seems to be the principal attraction of 
 the place. Your account of him and his various dis- 
 guises, reads like a romance." 
 
 " You must meet him under his changed condi- 
 tions." 
 
 " I have, already. He drove us over in the stage. 
 The senator and he crossed swords at the outset." 
 
 " Oh, I hope Mr. Weston has done nothing to offend 
 Louise's father," said Mrs. Carson. 
 
 " Mr. Jenkins has," laughed the doctor, as he told 
 the experiences of the ride from the station. " The 
 senator doesn't suspect that he is Mr. Weston. If I'm 
 not mistaken the young fellow will prove stubborn in 
 carrying out his own wishes." 
 
 Two hours later, Senator Ellsworth, coming out 
 from his dinner, in a most unamiable mood, provoked 
 by a tough steak and flavorless coffee, spied Travis 
 walking up and down in the hotel office. Calling him 
 to his side, he issued his orders and complaints with 
 the air of one who is in the habit of having his affairs 
 move along without discomfort or annoyance to him- 
 self.
 
 THE STAKE 275 
 
 " Where's your man, Travis. Let's get at this busi- 
 ness promptly. I want to leave this place as soon 
 as I can. Better take him to my room, where we won't 
 be disturbed. It will just about hold us. Best room 
 in the house they call it. A miserable hole with no 
 bath. But it's on a par with the whole outfit. Never 
 saw such a place. Bring him up, and have paper, pen 
 and ink ready." 
 
 The senator went upstairs, and Travis sought Ran- 
 kin, where he had left him, smoking his pipe upon the 
 piazza. He found him in conversation with Weston, 
 who, however, nodded, and walked away, as the lawyer 
 greeted Rankin with the information that Senator 
 Ellsworth was ready to meet him now. 
 
 " The senator suggests that we go up to his room 
 where we won't be disturbed." 
 
 " No smokin' allowed ? " inquired Rankin, removing 
 his cob pipe from his lips. 
 
 " You'll find a supply of the senator's cigars waiting 
 for us." 
 
 " Dope ! " ejaculated Rankin, knocking the ashes 
 from his pipe. " All right, young feller ! I'm yer 
 huckleberry." 
 
 Senator Ellsworth's room adjoined that of his 
 daughter, and through the connecting doorway Louise 
 witnessed the arrival of Travis and Rankin. With little 
 knowledge of her father's affairs, she paid no attention 
 to the conversation which followed but continued read- 
 ing her book, unconsciously hearing from time to time, 
 the voices in the adjoining room. 
 
 "You say you are authorized to deal with us for
 
 276 THE STAKE 
 
 the sale of this land ? " inquired the senator, preparing 
 his ground for attack. 
 
 " It looks thet way," replied Rankin carelessly. 
 
 "Written authority?" 
 
 " Better than that. I got his word." 
 
 " Humph ! Hardly regular, is it, Mr. Travis ? " 
 
 " Mr. Weston assured me that Mr. Rankin was his 
 authorized agent," replied the lawyer. " I think there 
 will be no trouble on that score." 
 
 " Ye c'n bet yer life on thet, my son," remarked 
 Rankin, calmly. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Rankin," said the senator, pompously, 
 " you understand, of course, the purpose of this inter- 
 view ? " 
 
 " I'm a leetle slow, Senator," replied Rankin, feeling 
 in his pocket for his pipe. " P'rhaps ye'd better begin 
 at th' beginnin'." 
 
 " This land," began the senator, in an easy matter- 
 of-fact tone of voice ; " this land which belongs to 
 your friend, Mr. Mr. what's his name Weston 
 has attracted my attention because of its natural 
 beauty, and and other considerations. I am pre- 
 pared to buy it, provided we can come to satisfactory 
 terms." 
 
 He paused to observe the effect of his words upon 
 his hearer, and seeing nothing startling in Rankin's 
 immovable face, he continued : 
 
 " I don't mind saying at once, that I am prepared 
 to pay more than the land is worth or appears to be 
 worth." 
 
 Rankin smiled.
 
 THE STAKE 277 
 
 " It orter be easy t' trade on them terms," he re- 
 marked. 
 
 " Have a cigar," said the senator. 
 
 " Much obleeged. I b'lieve I will, seem' as my pipe 
 ain't quite high-toned enough fer yer bedroom." 
 
 " Now, what would you say the land is worth, Ran- 
 kin ? " inquired the senator mildly, as the cigars were 
 lighted. 
 
 " It's hard t' tell," replied Rankin. 
 
 " But you have some figure in mind, haven't you ? " 
 
 " Waal, ye see, I've knowed th' land ever sence Dick 
 Weston bought it 'way back in th' sixties. Me an' him 
 lived there many a summer, huntin' an' fishin'." 
 
 " Yes," remarked the senator, encouragingly. " Any 
 hunting and fishing there now ? " 
 
 " Lots of it. 'Though 'tain't so good's it was." 
 
 " I'm fond of fishing," said the senator. 
 
 " Those was great days, but I'm old now, an' ain't 
 so spry's I used t' be," continued Rankin. 
 
 " We are all growing old older," remarked the sen- 
 ator, with a sigh. " Of course, your friend, being dead, 
 there is not the same attraction that there once was, 
 and it is not so hard to let the old place go." 
 
 " No. I s'pose it might 's well be sold. Young Dick 
 don't want t' keep it, an' ol' Dick's gone. I remember 
 when he bought it. Paid three hunnerd dollars fer it. 
 Yes, sir. Three hunnerd ! " 
 
 " Three hundred," said the senator, nodding his head 
 slowly. " It's worth more than that now." 
 
 " Yes, I s'pose it is." 
 
 " About how much do you think it is worth ? "
 
 278 THE STAKE 
 
 " Well, we c'n figger it up. I see ye've got paper 
 an' ink ready. S'posin' ye put it down." 
 
 Travis took the pen and drew the paper towards him. 
 He was secretly amused at the look of satisfaction upon 
 the senator's face. 
 
 " There's th' three hunnerd dollars th' land cost." 
 
 " Yes," said the senator, and Travis put the amount 
 down. 
 
 " Then they's txmt forty years taxes." 
 
 "All right! Put them down." 
 
 " They's more than th' land cost in th' fust place. 
 'Bout four hunnerd dollars." 
 
 "All right! Put it down. That makes seven hun- 
 dred dollars." 
 
 " Yes, but they's int'rest on th' money fer all thet 
 time." 
 
 " Very well ! Include the interest. How much is 
 that?" 
 
 " Waal, we figger at ten per cent, out our way." 
 
 " Ten per cent. ! That's a pretty high rate, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Mebbe it is in Boston, but we c'n git it on money 
 up in Michigan." 
 
 " Put it in the price, if you want to. How much is 
 it?" 
 
 " I make it twelve hunnerd dollars," said Rankin, 
 consulting a piece of paper which he took from his 
 pocket. 
 
 " Twelve hundred dollars ! " exclaimed the senator. 
 "As much as that?" 
 
 " I was afraid ye'd think it was too much," said 
 Rankin, replacing the paper in his pocket.
 
 THE STAKE 279 
 
 " No, no ! " cried the senator, hastily. " I said I 
 would pay it, and I'll stick to my word. That makes 
 nineteen hundred dollars, doesn't it, Travis?" 
 
 " Yes," replied the lawyer, with a puzzled look on his 
 face. 
 
 " Well, is that all ? " said the senator sharply ; he was 
 growing impatient. 
 
 " I think ye ought t' allow sunthin' fer th' old cabin. 
 It ain't in very good shape; kind o' tumbled down in 
 spots, but it's wuth sunthin'." 
 
 " Call it worth a hundred dollars," said the senator, 
 shifting uneasily in his seat. " That's an even two 
 thousand dollars. Is that your price ? " 
 
 " Ye might say that's jest th' cost. Seems zo they 
 orter be some profit figgered." 
 
 " See here, Rankin ! I haven't time to waste, figur- 
 ing all of these details. I'll give you five thousand dol- 
 lars for the land cash down." 
 
 " Thet's three thousand dollars profit, ain't it?" 
 drawled Rankin. 
 
 " Yes. Three thousand dollars. You've made a 
 good trade." 
 
 " Hev ye got it down ? " said Rankin. 
 
 " Yes," replied Travis, his heart beating rapidly. 
 
 "How does it look?" 
 
 " Here are the items you gave us, footing up two 
 thousand dollars, and here is the profit, three thousand 
 dollars, added to that, making a total of five thousand 
 dollars." 
 
 Rankin leaned over the table, and stretching out his 
 lean finger, he placed it upon the total.
 
 28o THE STAKE 
 
 " Now, add five hunnerd thousand dollars to thet," 
 he said deliberately. 
 
 " What ! " shouted the senator, springing to his feet, 
 while Louise, who was just leaving the adjoining room, 
 could not avoid hearing what followed. 
 
 " Man alive ! " cried the senator. " Do you mean to 
 say that you want five hundred thousand dollars for 
 that miserable piece of land ? " 
 
 " Five hunnerd and five thousand," replied Rankin, 
 blinking solemnly, but with a sparkle in his eyes which 
 betrayed secret enjoyment of the senator's surprise. 
 " But we'll call it an even half million dollars. Thet's 
 the price." 
 
 " It's outrageous ! Why, it's nothing but a waste of 
 forest and rock." 
 
 " An' copper," added Rankin. 
 
 " I'll not be held up in this manner," fumed the sen- 
 ator, losing control of his temper. " You think you 
 can force me to pay this price, but you cannot." 
 
 " I ain't worried. The land won't run away," re- 
 plied Rankin, carelessly. 
 
 " I'll not talk to you any more," shouted the senator, 
 shaking his finger in Rankin's face. " I'll deal with 
 your principal. That's what I'll do. Travis, find this 
 man, Weston, and bring him here. You can go, 
 Rankin, I'm through with you." 
 
 " I'll wait downstairs 'til ye call," replied Rankin, 
 as he left the room. In a moment he put his head in 
 the door, and called out : 
 
 " I'll send Dick up to see ye, ef ye want him. He's 
 downstairs now."
 
 THE STAKE 281 
 
 Travis nodded assent, and turned to the senator, who 
 was pacing up and down the little room. 
 
 " You see, Senator, what a fellow I had to deal with. 
 I couldn't even get him to name his price, but I sus- 
 pected him of some such scheme as this." 
 
 " I don't care to hear anything about your failure," 
 snapped the senator. " It's enough for me to know that 
 I have been humiliated and brow-beaten by this old 
 scamp. But I'll get the better of him yet. We must 
 have this land even if it does cost half a million dollars. 
 It means everything to us. Why, Travis, we had a 
 report from our man, yesterday, and it's the biggest 
 prospect in the whole range. It means millions mil- 
 lions." 
 
 There was a tap at the door and Weston entered the 
 room. 
 
 " Good evening," said Travis. " This is Senator 
 Ellsworth. Senator, I believe you have met Mr. Wes- 
 ton before." 
 
 The senator, recovering his dignity, bowed, and then 
 with a sudden exclamation, he cried: 
 
 " Weston ! Weston ! I thought your name was Jen- 
 kins ! " 
 
 " That was a mistake, sir," said Weston, smiling. 
 " I can explain some other time. My name is Weston. 
 You wished to see me ? " 
 
 " Yes yes," replied the senator, wiping his brow 
 with his handkerchief. " This is very confusing. Ex- 
 cuse me. You are the Mr. Weston who owns this land 
 in Michigan ? " 
 
 " Yes."
 
 THE STAKE 
 
 " And you are the same man who was injured by 
 the carelessness of my coachman?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And he is also the man who assisted Miss Ellsworth 
 at the time of her shipwreck," added Travis. He could 
 not but admire the man as he stood there, prepared to 
 match his honesty and his inexperience against this 
 master of shrewdness. 
 
 Meanwhile, in the adjoining room, Louise, so ab- 
 sorbed by the interest of what she could not help hear- 
 ing, never thought of herself as an eavesdropper, and 
 was listening breathlessly to the words which came 
 through the half -open door. 
 
 " This is most confusing most confusing," repeated 
 the senator, as he sank into a chair and stared at Wes- 
 ton. " In the first place, young man, I must thank you 
 for your service to my daughter. I would be glad to 
 reward you handsomely." 
 
 " That matter is disposed of," replied Weston, 
 shortly. " You wished to see me about the purchase 
 of some land, I believe." 
 
 " Yes," replied the senator, and his face resumed its 
 expression of keen business shrewdness. " I want to 
 buy your land, but I can't deal with that old shark, who 
 is acting as your agent. Do you know what price he 
 asked me for the land ? " 
 
 " I think he said it was five hundred thousand 
 dollars," replied Weston, not quite able to conceal a 
 smile. 
 
 " That was it. Five hundred thousand dollars ! Just 
 think of it ! Five hundred thousand dollars ! "
 
 THE STAKE 283 
 
 The senator rolled the figures over his tongue, as if 
 the amount represented the national debt. 
 
 " If that's his price, you'll have to pay it," said Wes- 
 ton. 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed the senator. " Do you mean to 
 uphold him in his extortion ? " 
 
 " What do you really think the land is worth ? " asked 
 Weston. 
 
 The senator paused a moment to consider what 
 amount might satisfy the young man, and then re- 
 plied: 
 
 " Say fifty thousand dollars possibly a little more. 
 I think I would venture to offer fifty thousand dollars." 
 
 " Rankin will never sell for that amount." 
 
 " I'm not dealing with Rankin. I'm dealing with 
 you," declared the senator emphatically. 
 
 " Oh ! " replied Weston. " I know nothing about the 
 land. You'll have to settle it with Rankin." 
 
 " See here, Weston ! " exclaimed the senator, angrily. 
 " Are you playing with me ? If you're trying to get 
 money out of me because you think I am under obliga- 
 tions to you, say so, and I'll know how to deal with 
 you." 
 
 " What do you mean by that? " asked Weston. " Do 
 you dare to insinuate " 
 
 " Yes, I dare to insinuate that you are trying to take 
 advantage of me, because you saved my daughter's 
 life." 
 
 Weston was on his feet, his eyes blazing with anger, 
 and his voice trembling with suppressed passion. 
 
 " I won't reply to such contemptible words," he said.
 
 284 THE STAKE 
 
 " I know as well as you do that the land is worth more 
 than the price named by Rankin. I know all about the 
 copper recently discovered there. I know how neces- 
 sary it is to you. You told Rankin you would pay what 
 the land was worth, didn't you ? Well I'll give you 
 the opportunity to keep your word. Fill out a con- 
 tract for this land. Make the consideration what you 
 honestly believe the land to be worth, and I'll sign the 
 paper upon your own terms." 
 
 There was a noise in the next room, as of the closing 
 of a door, and footsteps hurried through the hall. 
 
 Senator Ellsworth wiped his forehead, stared hard 
 at Weston, and looked doubtfully towards Travis. 
 
 "Well," he said to the latter, "why don't you fill 
 it out? Let's settle this." 
 
 "What amount?" asked Travis, dipping his pen in 
 the ink. 
 
 The senator hesitated, squirmed in his seat, clenched 
 his fists, and seemed to find difficulty in breathing. 
 Twice he opened his mouth to speak, and each time his 
 voice failed him. He turned again to Travis, as if 
 hoping for some suggestion from the young lawyer, but 
 the latter, with his eyes cast upon the paper before him, 
 remained silent. At last he exclaimed hoarsely: 
 
 " Pay him his price. Make it half a million dollars." 
 
 Travis gave a quick glance at Weston, and then pro- 
 ceeded to complete the papers. There was no other 
 sound in the room, save the scratching of the pen. 
 Weston remained standing, watching intently the face 
 of the senator, who sat with his head bowed, and his 
 fingers nervously clutching the sides of his chair.
 
 THE STAKE 285 
 
 " Here it is," said the lawyer, after a few minutes. 
 " Read it over, Weston." 
 
 " It isn't necessary," replied the latter, removing his 
 eyes for the first time from the bent figure of the man 
 before him. " Give me the pen. I'll sign it." 
 
 As he uttered these words, the door opened suddenly, 
 and Louise burst into the room, followed by Rankin. 
 
 " No, no ! " she cried, rushing to Weston's side. 
 " Please do not sign it. Father, you mustn't do this. 
 Surely, you wouldn't take advantage of him. I heard 
 you say the land was worth half a million dollars." 
 
 "Did he say that?" cried Weston, turning to her, 
 with a look of admiration. " Then he has taken no 
 advantage of me, for that's just what he has offered to 
 pay me for the property,"
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 IN the morning, Weston was up early. Without 
 waiting for breakfast, he hurried over to Squire 
 Guilford's, to tell his old friend the result of his inter- 
 view with Senator Ellsworth the night before. 
 
 He found them sitting at the table, and promptly ac- 
 cepted Mrs. Guilford's invitation to breakfast. 
 
 " Great news, Squire ! " he cried, helping himself to 
 a slice of hot toast. " We've sold the land." 
 
 "Who to?" 
 
 " Senator Ellsworth and his crowd." 
 
 The squire dropped his knife and fork. 
 
 " Ye don't say so. Thet's too bad," he said. 
 
 " Too bad ? You don't know what we got for it." 
 
 "Did Rankin sell it?" 
 
 " No. I did. Don't you want to know the price ? " 
 
 The squire stared at him blankly for a moment, and 
 then inquired: 
 
 "Waal, what'dyegit?" 
 
 "Half a million dollars!" 
 
 Mrs. Guilford gave a little shriek. 
 
 " Half a million dollars ? Sakes alive ! Who'd ha' 
 thought the old land was wuth that much ? " 
 
 " Half a million dollars? " echoed the squire, nodding 
 his head. " No wonder Rankin got left." 
 
 " I don't understand you," said Weston, looking curi-
 
 THE STAKE 287 
 
 ously at the old man. " Left? What do you mean?" 
 
 " Why, ye see," replied the squire, hesitatingly. " He 
 wanted to lease it himself. He an' some other fellers 
 ha' got a mine 'longside o' this land, an' they kind o' 
 needed it t' piece out. Leastwise, thet's th' way I under- 
 stood it." 
 
 Weston pushed his chair back from the table, and 
 there was a strange look in his face. 
 
 " Why wasn't I told this? " he asked. 
 
 "Why, Rankin said not t' tell ye. When he fust 
 come out here t' lease th' land, he saw you was kind o' 
 green that is t' say ye didn't know much abaout 
 tradin', so he come t' me, an' he sez t' me, sez he: 
 ' This 'ere land's wuth a hull lot o' money. Th' copper 
 trust is arter it, an' we want it, but th' trust has got 
 more money'n we hev, so they ain't no use of our 
 buckin' ag'in 'em. But one thing's sure. They've got 
 t' pay th' boy whut it's wuth.' " 
 
 " Why didn't he tell me? " cried Weston, rising from 
 the table. " He could have had the land at his own 
 price. He and Uncle Dick discovered it together, and 
 he has the first right What a fool I was. He told 
 me about the Lucky Jack mine, and how the trust was 
 trying to force them out, but it never occurred to me 
 that he wanted my land. Green? I should say I am 
 green. Why, I would rather sell it to Rankin for a 
 thousand dollars than have the trust get it. To think 
 that I should walk into such a trap." 
 
 " Waal, it's a purty good trap t' walk into. Half a 
 million dollars! Whew! It's enough t' buy out th' 
 hull taown. Where ye goin' ? "
 
 288 THE STAKE 
 
 " Home. And find Rankin, as quick as I can," re- 
 plied Weston, taking his hat and starting for the door. 
 
 " Ye ain't eat yer breakfast," cried Mrs. Guilford. 
 " An' I've got some griddle-cakes, too." 
 
 " Hoi' on ! Don't be in sech a hurry," shouted the 
 squire. " Guess it'll keep long enough so that you c'n 
 eat yer vittles." 
 
 But Weston was already out of the door, and hurry- 
 ing down the path to the street. The thought that he, 
 of all others* should have played into the hands of the 
 very men he had condemned, exasperated him beyond 
 measure. When he had given Rankin the absolute con- 
 trol of the sale, it was with the grim thought that the 
 shrewd old trader would be a match for the smooth rep- 
 resentatives of the syndicate. When Travis's failure 
 brought Senator Ellsworth on the scene, he had only 
 the feeling of an amused spectator. The financial gain 
 to himself, or the effect upon others, entered but mildly 
 into his speculations. Of the real value of the land, 
 he had been ignorant. His one wish was that Rankin's 
 shrewdness might outwit them in the trade. 
 
 As he approached the house, he discovered a figure 
 sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, near the gate, and, 
 to his surprise, found it was Rankin himself. 
 
 " Mornin' ! " said the latter, looking up from the stick 
 he was whittling. " Ye're out early." 
 
 " Yes. You're just the man I want to see." 
 
 " Say ! " continued Rankin, not heeding the last re- 
 mark. " Want to do me a favor ? D'ye s'pose ye c'd 
 snake my grip out o' th' back door, an' bring it 'round 
 here?"
 
 THE STAKE 289 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 Rankin turned and peered around a lilac-bush, which 
 hid the house from view. 
 
 " She she don't know I'm goin'. Thought I'd bet- 
 ter make a sneak," he said sheepishly. " She's been 
 fixin' up some scheme on me, an' I concluded t' light 
 out." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " Mis' Briggs. Not but she's all right, an' cooks fine, 
 but she's a turble hangin'-on sort of a woman. I ain't 
 used t' sech, an' I got kind o' skittish about stayin' any 
 longer." 
 
 Weston smiled. 
 
 " I'll stand by you, old friend. Come into the house 
 and let's have breakfast. I want to talk to you. Why 
 didn't you tell me you wanted that land in Michigan? " 
 
 "Hey? What land? Oh, that land! Say, has ol' 
 Guilford been givin' me away?" 
 
 " Indeed he has. And the worst of it is, I've found 
 you out too late. Or is it too late ? " 
 
 " See here, young feller ! Bus'ness is bus'ness. The 
 land was your'n, an' ye got what it's wuth." 
 
 He sighed and added: 
 
 " But it's tough on Wade an' the other fellers in the 
 Lucky Jack. We'll hev to call it Unlucky Jack fer 
 sure, now." 
 
 " Tell me about it," said Weston, sitting down beside 
 him. " Do you know, I am so densely stupid, I never 
 understood your fight with the copper trust, although 
 you did say something to me about it once before." 
 
 " Why, it's jest this way. I owned th' land east of
 
 290 THE STAKE 
 
 your'n, an' leased it t' some fellers who started minin' 
 there. They struck copper along th' west side, an' 
 found th' veins run over into your prop'ty. About th' 
 same time, th' big copper company struck ore jest west 
 o' your line. Then I guess both parties did a leetle 
 prospectin', until they made up their minds thet th' 
 biggest body of ore was on your land. So, of course, 
 they was both arter it. Don't ye see ? " 
 
 " Are you interested now in the Lucky Jack ? " said 
 Weston. 
 
 " Yes. I took some stock in th' comp'ny." 
 
 " Will it affect your stock, now that the syndicate 
 has bought my land ? " 
 
 " I sh'd say it would," replied Rankin, grimly. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " 'Cause th' Lucky Jack crowd ain't got land enough 
 t' do bus'ness. Ef they c'd ha' leased your land, same 
 as they did mine payin' a r'yalty on what they got out 
 of it, they c'd ha' swung it all right. But, half a mil- 
 lion dollars called their pile. They're too poor to fight 
 ag'in th' dollars stacked up t' beat 'em. What they've 
 got t' do, is t' sell out th' best they can. I'm goin' t' 
 Boston to-day, an' wire Wade it's all off." 
 
 " Isn't there other copper land they can get ? " 
 
 " Yes. Lots of it. But none so good as your'n. 
 
 " 'Cept th' land south of 'em," he added. " But they 
 can't buy that." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Takes money. Takes purty near as much cash as 
 you got fer your'n." 
 
 " Is the syndicate after that, too?"
 
 THE STAKE 291 
 
 " No. They know we can't buy it, so they're waitin' 
 'til th' feller that owns it gits tired o' holdin' it." 
 
 " Do you know the owner ? " 
 
 "Know him? Sh'd say I did. Trapped with him 
 four winters." 
 
 "Would he sell to you?" 
 
 " I tell ye we ain't got th' money, an' he won't take 
 anythin' but cash." 
 
 " What does he want for it? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't know. I expect I c'd buy it fer three 
 hunnercl thousand dollars. But what's th' use o' talkin' 
 about it. He won't lease, an' he won't sell 'cept fer 
 cash, an' cash is jes' what we ain't got." 
 
 " I'll furnish -the money," said Weston. "The syndi- 
 cate will have to pay me half a million dollars for my 
 land. Out of that money I can furnish your company 
 with enough additional capital to buy this other prop- 
 erty. How would that work ? " 
 
 Rankin paused in his whittling, stared at W T eston a 
 moment, and then raising his fist in air, brought it down 
 with a thud upon his knee. 
 
 "By Godfrey, boy! Ye've got 'em licked. With 
 their own money, too." 
 
 The next minute he threw back his head and roared 
 with laughter. Suddenly he stopped, peered anxiously 
 around the lilac-bush, and lowered his voice to a whis- 
 per. 
 
 " D'ye think ye'd better do it, Dick ? I ain't sartin 
 ef it's right." 
 
 " It must be right," exclaimed Dick. " It's just what 
 iny father would do, and so would Uncle Dick."
 
 292 THE STAKE 
 
 " Yes, I guess he would," said Rankin, thoughtfully. 
 " But how about ol' Ellsworth? Ye kind o' got th' best 
 of him last night. Do ye think he'll take another fall 
 from ye ? " 
 
 " Why shouldn't I take a legitimate advantage over 
 him ? He tried to get the better of me." 
 
 " But he paid ye what it was wuth at last." 
 
 " He had to." 
 
 " Did he ? I kind o' thought he weakened of his own 
 accord. Didn't ye kind o' crowd him to be square ? " 
 
 " Yes. It's true I put it up to him, and he was man 
 enough to do the right thing at the last." 
 
 "Then there's th' gal," said Rankin softly. "Ex- 
 cuse me fer sayin' so. But don't ye owe her sunthin', 
 too?" 
 
 Weston was silent. 
 
 " Let's think it over a while, fust," said the old man 
 quietly. " P'rhaps we c'n figger it out an easier way." 
 
 " Don't you want to use the money the way I sug- 
 gested ? " asked Weston. 
 
 " Lord bless ye, my boy ! Don't put it that way. Of 
 course I'd like t' hev th' money t' help out my partners, 
 but I've got t' do some thirikin' fer you fust. They's 
 sunthin' better'n money in this world, an' that's happi- 
 ness. That's what yer uncle used t' say. You're like 
 him in a good many ways. But they's one mistake he 
 made. He never got married. No more did I. Ef 
 I'd only hed a wife " 
 
 "Waal, here ye be, be ye?" called a shrill voice be- 
 hind them, as Mrs. Briggs's bony hand pushed open the 
 gate with a gesture of command, rather than invitation.
 
 THE STAKE 293 
 
 " Here I've been waitin' an' lookin' an' callin' fer 
 half an hour fer ye. Th' p'tatoes is burned to a crisp, 
 an' I've sp'iled six eggs in b'ilin'. What on airth be ye 
 doin' here? Who littered all them shavin's on th' 
 sidewalk? Yew, Mr. Rankin? I'm surprised. Shows 
 ye ain't hed the advantage of female comp'ny." 
 
 The two culprits passed through the gate, Weston, 
 with a smile on his lips, and Rankin, with an anxious 
 side-glance at Mrs. Briggs, who stood like some ac- 
 cusing spirit, ushering them within the portals of a hall 
 of judgment. 
 
 When the two men had finished their breakfast, eaten 
 in. silence under the observing eyes and ears of the 
 widow, they were alone for a few minutes while she 
 was busied in the kitchen. Seizing the opportunity, 
 Rankin again informed Weston that he must leave for 
 Boston that very day. Poising a toothpick in air, and 
 using it like a baton to emphasize his remarks, he said : 
 
 " There's only one way t' jump th' ranch, Dick, an' 
 that is t' skin out when she ain't lookin'. You'll hev 
 to git my traps an' work 'em over t' Guilford's. Hide 
 'em in th' stage, an' tell th' squire I'll be some'eres 
 along th' road t' th' station. He c'n pick me up. I 
 believe I'll go right now." 
 
 " What's thet? " cried the sharp voice of Mrs. Briggs 
 at the door. " Where ye goin' ? " 
 
 Rankin, who had half risen from his chair, sank back 
 with a helpless look towards Weston. 
 
 " Mr. Rankin is going back to Boston to-day," said 
 Dick, boldly. 
 
 For a moment there was dead silence, save for a dry
 
 294 THE STAKE 
 
 rattling in Mrs. Briggs' throat, as she swallowed audi- 
 bly, and the cracking of her knuckles, as she clasped 
 and unclasped her hands. 
 
 " Ain't yer vittles right ? " she demanded of Rankin. 
 
 Before her accusing looks Rankin could find no words 
 of reply, and again turned in mute appeal to Weston. 
 
 " I think Mr. Rankin is satisfied with the way he 
 has been treated," said Weston firmly, " but he can't 
 stay any longer. We have some business matters to 
 talk over before he goes, so you'll have to excuse us." 
 
 The widow glared at him, and seemed about to make 
 an angry reply. She thought better of it, however, 
 gave a spiteful shrug of her shoulders, and left the 
 room. 
 
 " Now, Rankin," said Weston, " get your things to- 
 gether, and we'll take them over to Guilford's. Hurry 
 up. We mustn't have another scene with Mrs. Briggs, 
 if we can help it. I'm sorry for her, but she'll have 
 to get along without us. Unless " he added, with a 
 twinkle in his eye " unless you wish to console her." 
 
 " No, no ! " exclaimed Rankin, hastily. " She's a 
 capable, forehanded woman, but she's too much fer 
 me." 
 
 After arranging with Rankin to meet him in Boston 
 in a week, Weston said good-by to his old friend, and, 
 leaving him at Guilford's, turned down the street to the 
 hotel. 
 
 Here the first person he met was Dr. Stewart, from 
 whom he received a hearty welcome. 
 
 " Hello, Weston ! Glad to see you. Things are in 
 a terrible mix-up around here, and you seem to be the
 
 THE STAKE 
 
 295 
 
 one to straighten it all out. Dicky Carson insists that 
 you are under engagement to take us all out to that 
 famous island of yours." 
 
 " Trust Dicky for remembering that," replied Weston, 
 looking out over the harbor. " The day is just right 
 for sailing. We ought to start early. Where are the 
 ladies?" 
 
 "At breakfast. Late as usual. But then, Miss 
 Ellsworth was up late with her father. The old gen- 
 tleman and Travis got into some altercation last night. 
 I imagine the senator was in a tantrum, for I could 
 hear him storming about his room, until nearly mid- 
 night. This morning he and Travis were up early, and 
 drove over to the station. I believe they were to wire 
 for special orders to stop some train." 
 
 " Gone ? " exclaimed Weston in surprise. " That's 
 very strange. I expected to meet them here this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 " By the way," said the doctor, feeling in his pocket, 
 " Travis left a note for you. Handed it to me just as 
 he was leaving. Here it is." 
 
 Weston tore open the envelope and read the few 
 lines which informed him that the business of the night 
 before would be concluded in Boston, and asking him 
 to be at Senator Ellsworth's the next day, if possible. 
 He smiled as he read the last part of the letter. " Poor 
 Travis," he thought. " It must have been hard for him 
 to leave just now. He can't drag me away until I am 
 ready to go." 
 
 " Then our party is reduced to four," he said aloud. 
 
 " Five, including Dicky."
 
 296 THE STAKE 
 
 " To be sure. He's the most important one of all. 
 Here he comes now." 
 
 The boy came running towards him with a joyful 
 cry. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Crusoe ! We're going sailing out to your 
 desert island, aren't we? No, I mustn't call you Mr. 
 Crusoe, 'cause he's lost and we're going to find him. 
 I've invited mamma, and Dr. Stewart, 'cause they 
 wouldn't know what to do with themselves if we went 
 away and left them all alone. When are we going to 
 start?" 
 
 " Just as soon as we can get ready. I'll go down 
 and see Dad about the boat now. Doctor, will you ask 
 the ladies to arrange about the lunch? I'll be back in 
 a few minutes." 
 
 " Can't I go, too? " cried Dicky. 
 
 " Yes. Come on," replied Weston. 
 
 As he and the boy went off hand in hand, the doc- 
 tor remarked to himself: 
 
 " I did the best job of my life when I patched up 
 that fellow's head. The world needs that kind of 
 bright, sunny characters. One only needs to look at 
 his straight figure and fearless eye to know the genuine 
 worth of the man." 
 
 " Good morning ! " said a voice at his elbow, and he 
 turned to find Mrs. Carson standing beside him. 
 
 " Was that Mr. Weston ? " she asked, pointing to the 
 two figures moving towards the beach. 
 
 " Yes. He and Dicky have gone to arrange for a 
 boat. Will you and Miss Ellsworth find a lunch for 
 us? It seems this is to be an all-day affair."
 
 THE STAKE 
 
 297 
 
 " You're not very enthusiastic," she said archly. 
 " Perhaps you would rather stay at home." 
 
 " With pleasure, if you'll stay, "too." 
 
 She laughed softly and went into the house. 
 
 When Weston returned a half-hour later, he found 
 them waiting for him. 
 
 "All ready?" he inquired. 
 
 " All ready," answered the doctor. " Plenty of good 
 things to eat, and two ladies to rescue from danger. 
 Are we likely to have a storm and shipwreck to-day, 
 or have you and Miss Ellsworth a monopoly of such 
 adventures ? " 
 
 Weston glanced at Louise as he said soberly : 
 
 " I hope no such danger may happen to you, as Miss 
 Ellsworth experienced. Come, let's be going." 
 
 They went down the steps, and on towards the beach, 
 Louise holding Dicky by the hand and walking beside 
 Mrs. Carson, while the two men strode on ahead. At 
 the dock, old Dad was waiting to receive them, his 
 toilet made richer by a glaring red necktie. 
 
 " Mornin', Miss ! " he said, touching his hat to Mrs. 
 Carson. 
 
 " Good morning, Captain ! What kind of weather 
 will we have?" 
 
 " FavT)le, Miss! Fav'ble! A fair wind an' a fair 
 weather ! " 
 
 " No danger of storm? " 
 
 " Not's I cal'late. In course th' ways o' th' Lord is 
 onsartin, but 'cordin' t' signs, He ain't botherin' with 
 th' weather t'day. Prob'ly got sunthin' else t' do, look- 
 in' arter mis'ble sinners, an' sech."
 
 298 THE STAKE 
 
 " I suppose, Captain," remarked the doctor, as Wes- 
 ton assisted the ladies into the boat ; " I suppose you 
 know all about the sea." 
 
 " Done ev'rything but drink it." 
 
 "Don't you ever get tired of it?" 
 
 " Git tired ? Yes, sometimes. Ye see, me an' th' 
 sea's been friends an' enemies off an' on fer 'bout fifty 
 year. For awhile she's all cooin' an' soft like a baby, 
 an' then I like t' play with her. But when she gits on 
 a tantrum, an' goes t' slappin' an' grabbin', then I want 
 t' fight. I've licked her so fur, but she'll git me some 
 time, yew see ef she don't." 
 
 " Come, jump in, Stewart," shouted Weston. " Get 
 ready to cast off, Dad. All clear there ? " 
 
 "Hi! Yi!" yelled Dicky. " Here we go."
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 IT was a perfect day. Fleecy clouds floated lazily 
 across the clear sky. A light breeze set the sur- 
 face of the sea dancing and sparkling in the bright 
 sunlight. The lapping of the waves along the sides of 
 the boat, charmed and smoothed the senses. For a 
 time no one cared to speak. Even Dicky was silent, 
 absorbed in dreamy contemplation of the vista of wa- 
 ters, while Dad sat in the bow, gazing abstractedly 
 ahead, or watching with the eye of a connoisseur the 
 cut of the prow, as it cleaved its way through the 
 waves. 
 
 To Weston at the helm the exhilaration of sailing 
 was as nothing compared with the joy in his heart, as 
 he thought of the girl at his side. Her face was turned 
 from him, as she pensively leaned over the rail, and 
 dipped her fingers in the water. As he watched her 
 profile, he seemed to see in it a look of sadness. There 
 was a sober droop of the mouth, and an appearance of 
 listlessness, which he could not understand. He won- 
 dered if she were thinking of that other time, when 
 they two were in the boat together, battling for life in 
 the extremity of their danger. If he had loved her 
 then, how much more did he love her now. 
 
 The silence was suddenly broken by Dad, who called 
 back to Weston :
 
 300 THE STAKE 
 
 " Better keep her over t' sta'board, ef ye want t' 
 make th' Narrers." 
 
 Weston started from his reverie. 
 
 " I must have been dreaming," he said, as he shifted 
 the helm. " Come, good people ! Do something to 
 keep me awake." 
 
 " We're all at sea," remarked the doctor. 
 
 " That sounds like the * Wise Men of Gotham/ " said 
 Weston. " What do you think about it, Dicky ? " 
 
 " I was wonderin'," replied Dicky, " if a whale could 
 swallow two persons at once." 
 
 " Sure thing ! " replied Weston. " Why do you 
 ask?" 
 
 " I was thinkin' that Jonah must have been pretty 
 lonesome inside of a whale, without anybody to talk 
 to." 
 
 " No doubt of it. I always feel that way myself." 
 
 Dicky looked at him quizzically. 
 
 " You wasn't ever in a whale," he drawled scorn- 
 fully. 
 
 " No, but I've been pretty lonesome without anybody 
 to talk to." 
 
 As he said this, Weston looked at Louise appeal- 
 ingly. 
 
 " How have I offended you ? " he asked in a low 
 voice. " You have hardly spoken to me this morning." 
 
 She flushed deeply and glanced at the doctor and 
 Mrs. Carson, who were conversing together in low 
 tones, while Dicky was making his way cautiously for- 
 ward to join the skipper. 
 
 " I might say the same," she remarked lamely,
 
 THE STAKE 
 
 301 
 
 " Then there's nothing to be explained nothing I 
 have said or done to hurt your feelings ? " 
 
 " No ! No ! " she replied in a low voice. " You 
 mustn't think that. I I can't explain now. Did 
 did you see my father this morning? " 
 
 " No. He left before I reached the hotel," replied 
 Weston, puzzled at her strange reserve. Then as a 
 new thought struck him, he added: 
 
 " You mean about the business of last night? " 
 
 " Yes," she murmured ; then raised her eyes to his. 
 "Oh, Mr. Weston! Please don't blame my father. 
 He intends to do what is right, but he becomes so in- 
 tensely interested in his business plans, that he some- 
 times forgets to be just to others. I never thought of 
 it in that way until last night. When I overheard his 
 conversation with Mr. Travis, and realized that he was 
 trying to to take advantage of you, I was so 
 shocked, so unhappy, I hardly knew what I did." 
 
 There were tears in her eyes. 
 
 " You mustn't look at it that way," he said lamely. 
 " It was only a matter of business. I had something 
 to sell ; he was willing to buy." 
 
 " Yes, but he tried to buy it for less than it was 
 worth." 
 
 " That's the basis of all business transactions. Other- 
 wise the buyer would make no profit." 
 
 " You are trying to make it look right, just to relieve 
 my mind," she said, smiling sadly. " I know he tried 
 to take advantage of you." 
 
 " But he didn't succeed," replied Weston. " Perhaps 
 I have taken an advantage of him. Who knows ? "
 
 302 THE STAKE 
 
 " Do you think so ? " she asked, her face brightening. 
 " I would rather have it that way." 
 
 " Would you really like to have me get the better of 
 your father ? " said he. 
 
 " If you could," she replied naively ; " I imagine, 
 though, it wouldn't be easy for you." 
 
 " Your father has the reputation of being a very 
 shrewd man. I'm afraid I would be no match for him. 
 Then, too, I'm not anxious to become rich." 
 
 "And you think my father is?" inquired the girl, 
 thoughtfully. "You are mistaken. Papa is not mi- 
 serly. He has no desire to hoard money. He is gen- 
 erous, and gives freely, not only to charities, but to all 
 worthy causes." 
 
 "I don't doubt it," said Weston. "But, pardon 
 me wouldn't it be better if he were more generous 
 in his business transactions ? " 
 
 " He intends to be generous, I'm sure," she replied, 
 hesitatingly. " Business with him is a game into which 
 he puts his best efforts, and he plays to win; just as 
 you do at football or tennis or any other contest of 
 skill." 
 
 " But, isn't the motive rather mercenary ? " suggested 
 Weston. 
 
 " Not in his case," she argued. " He makes his plans 
 and carries them out skillfully, can you blame him? 
 Is it to his discredit that he succeeds ? " 
 
 She was pleading with her lover for her father's good 
 name, and her face showed the intensity of her feel- 
 ings. Filled with admiration for her defense of the 
 man whom he had considered heartless and unprinci-
 
 THE STAKE 303 
 
 pled, Weston felt his prejudices slipping away from 
 him. 
 
 " How about the man who loses in this game ? " he 
 asked. " Think of his disappointment. It's a game 
 in which the loser often becomes a sufferer, while the 
 winner gains only a useless victory. It's a fine thing 
 to relieve human suffering and want, but isn't it better 
 to prevent it to forestall heartache and misery among 
 our fellow-men? Give me the helping hand before the 
 hand of charity." 
 
 " That is the sad part of it which I can't explain," 
 she replied, shaking her head. " My philosophy will 
 not carry me that far. I have a feeling, though, that 
 the spirit which moves men to drive sharp bargains, or 
 to get the better of some one else, is the same spirit 
 which makes some men leaders among their fellows. 
 I don't know much about such things, but it seems to 
 me that there are struggles in every phase of life, and 
 that the strong minds must inevitably overpower the 
 weaker." 
 
 " Almost thou persuadest me to be a magnate," said 
 Weston, laughing. " I wonder how it would seem to 
 manipulate the stock-market, corner some poor devil, 
 and euchre him out of his fortune ; or form a combina- 
 tion of brother magnates, a syndicate, as they call it, 
 for the purpose of crushing out competition." 
 
 She looked at him soberly and said quietly : 
 
 " I want you to do nothing which your own con- 
 science condemns, but I would like to have you think 
 of my father and his business methods without preju- 
 dice."
 
 304 THE STAKE 
 
 Then blushing deeply at her temerity, she added 
 bravely : 
 
 " I know you are laughing at me secretly. It's ridic- 
 ulous for me to presume to advise you. Perhaps I've 
 been foolishly worried over last night's affair, when I 
 thought my father was trying to take advantage of you. 
 At first I could see no excuse for it, but I finally be- 
 came convinced that he had no realization of the wrong 
 he was doing you. In the game he was playing, you 
 were simply an obstruction to be removed. The thought 
 that you would suffer by his actions, was not impressed 
 upon his mind until your appeal to his honor. I think 
 that he came to a sudden realization of it then." 
 
 " Yes, and responded nobly," exclaimed Weston, 
 touched by her manner, and almost convinced of the 
 truth of her argument. She gave him a look of grati- 
 tude, and a smile which ended any further doubts as 
 far as he was concerned. He was prepared to waive 
 all former scruples and declare her father and his as- 
 sociates philanthropists in disguise, if only she would 
 continue to be gracious to him. He was tempted to 
 take her hand, and press it in sympathy. The doctor 
 and Mrs. Carson were talking to each other in low 
 tones ; Dicky and his ancient mariner were gazing ahead. 
 The time seemed propitious. He looked at her with 
 his very soul in his eyes. Her lips were parted; her 
 face turned towards him was beautiful in its expression. 
 He leaned forward, and 
 
 " Hi, there ! " shouted Dad. " What ye doin* ! Keep 
 her nose in yer eye, an' sight fer th' island." 
 
 The two couples were startled out of their abstrac-
 
 THE STAKE 305 
 
 tion. Weston brought the boat over to her course, 
 and Stewart exclaimed : 
 
 " How much farther is it ? " 
 
 " We are nearly half-way there," replied Weston. 
 " Are you getting tired or hungry ? " 
 
 " Neither. Just resigned to what fate may bring me." 
 
 " There's a lunch-basket within reach," said Mrs. 
 Carson. "If anybody is hungry, they can help them- 
 selves." 
 
 To this invitation Dicky immediately responded. 
 
 " Captain Dad is goin' to take me fishin'," he said, 
 " and we want to eat now, so we won't have to waste 
 any time eatin' when we get to the island." 
 
 " But it's only a little after ten o'clock," replied his 
 mother. 
 
 " I don't care ! I and Captain Dad have got lots to 
 'tend to, and we can't be 'noyed when we're fishin'." 
 
 The boy was supplied with sandwiches, and returned 
 to his new friend in the bow. 
 
 It was after eleven o'clock when they reached the 
 island, and brought the boat within the little bay where 
 the dock of logs still served as a landing-place. Leav- 
 ing the skipper to follow with the baskets, the party 
 climbed the rough path which led to the top of the rock, 
 the ladies very gladly accepting the assistance of the 
 gentlemen, while Dicky scrambled ahead, shouting 
 shrilly to the sea birds which rose in clouds from the 
 cliffs. 
 
 " Welcome to my kingdom ! " cried Weston, when 
 they had reached the top, and stood breathlessly looking 
 out over the limitless expanse of water.
 
 306 THE STAKE 
 
 " Grand ! " exclaimed Stewart, wiping his brow. 
 
 " Perfectly lovely ! " gasped Mrs. Carson. 
 
 " Where are the cocoanut trees and the monkeys ? " 
 inquired Dicky, looking dubiously at the waste of rock. 
 
 " You'll find those in the Zoo," replied Weston ; then 
 turning to Louise, he asked : 
 
 " Does it look familiar ? " 
 
 " In a sense yes. But I am seeing it with differ- 
 ent eyes now," she said. 
 
 " Show us where you were cast ashore, Louise," said 
 Mrs. Carson. 
 
 " We'll go to the house first," said Weston. " Come, 
 you must climb higher." 
 
 They followed slowly up the path towards the cabin, 
 Weston assisting Mrs. Carson, and the doctor with 
 Louise clinging to his arm. 
 
 " Is that your castle in the air ? " called Stewart, 
 pointing ahead. 
 
 " It was truly so, the last time we were here, wasn't 
 it, Miss Ellsworth ? " replied Weston, turning towards 
 her. " It seemed then as if the air of the whole uni- 
 verse were traveling past us, and would carry us along 
 with it." 
 
 " It was awful ! " replied Louise. " I hate to think of 
 it. But that was only part of our terrible experience." 
 
 " Do you remember that first morning? " said Weston 
 as they continued on up the hill. 
 
 " I remember every moment," she replied almost in 
 a whisper. 
 
 When they came to the cabin, they found the door 
 closed just as they had left it. Weston paused a mo-
 
 THE STAKE 
 
 307 
 
 merit with his hand on the hasp ; then bowing to Louise 
 he threw open the door, and stepped to one side. 
 
 " You first, Miss Ellsworth," he said. 
 
 She looked at him in surprise, while a faint flush 
 rose to her cheeks. Then with a nervous laugh, she 
 said: 
 
 " Must I drive away the ghosts ? " 
 
 " You must bring back the sunlight, which you took 
 away with you," he replied in a voice which reached 
 her ears only. 
 
 Everything was unchanged; the neatly-made bed, 
 just as she had arranged it when leaving; the table cov- 
 ered with its red spread; the lamp and dishes in their 
 places ; the old spyglass on the wall ; the books. 
 
 By the stove was an empty hook, where had hung the 
 oil-skin coat. 
 
 " Gone ! " said Weston, as he saw her look at the 
 vacant place. " The last time I remember seeing it, 
 you were being carried in it, down to the cabin of the 
 Mary Boyle. I suppose Captain Appleby has fallen 
 heir to it, or perhaps Bill Jenkins took it in exchange 
 for his historic cap." 
 
 " And you mean to say that you two lived in this lit- 
 tle tucked-up place for two whole days?" exclaimed 
 Mrs. Carson, looking about the room, with an expres- 
 sion of wonderment. " It smothers me to think of it. 
 Let's get out of doors. It smells stuffy in here." 
 
 "There comes Dad," exclaimed Weston. "We'll 
 have him build a fire and start the coffee. Meanwhile 
 let's sit outside and enjoy the view." 
 
 " I am going to set the table and arrange the lunch,"
 
 308 THE STAKE 
 
 said Louise, as the old skipper came puffing in at the 
 door, carrying the baskets and a jug of water. 
 
 " Very well, I'll stay and help," said Mrs. Carson, re- 
 signedly. 
 
 " No ! Please go outside with the others," insisted 
 Louise. " I want to do it alone. Please go." 
 
 Mrs. Carson looked at her in surprise. 
 
 " Of course if you are anxious to be alone in this 
 musty hut, I'll not interfere. I really believe you are 
 becoming sentimental." 
 
 The men had already retired to the bench outside the 
 door, when Mrs. Carson joined them. 
 
 " Mr. Weston," she said, " Louise seems to think your 
 cabin is a sort of ' Holy of Holies.' She has dismissed 
 me, and here comes the captain with his walking papers. 
 Perhaps she would recognize your rights as proprietor. 
 At present she is cook, housemaid and all." 
 
 " Won't she let anybody help her ? " asked Weston, 
 rising quickly, and looking hesitatingly at the half-open 
 door. 
 
 " You might try. She refused my aid." 
 
 " I'll find out," said Weston, as he entered the house. 
 
 " There ! " whispered Mrs. Carson to the doctor. 
 " Let's go away and leave them. Dicky, you run along 
 with the captain." 
 
 " Is this a conspiracy? " asked the doctor, as he and 
 the widow strolled over to the edge of the cliff, and 
 stood looking out upon the unbroken stretch of water. 
 
 " Yes ! " replied she. " I have done my best to bring 
 together two persons who really love each other, I am 
 sure."
 
 THE STAKE 309 
 
 "Which two?" 
 
 She glanced at him slyly, and answered quickly, as 
 she turned away: 
 
 " Why Louise and Mr. Weston, of course." 
 
 Then hastening her steps, she said: 
 
 " Let's leave them alone for half an hour. If he 
 doesn't propose in that time, I'll give him up." 
 
 Meanwhile, within the cabin, fate was welding the 
 last links in the chain. 
 
 " May I help you ? " asked Weston, as he stood within 
 the door, and watched the girl busied in arranging the 
 table. 
 
 She stopped her singing, and looked up at him saucily. 
 
 " If you are really anxious to do something, you 
 might poke the fire and persuade the coffee to boil." 
 
 " As I did for you once before," he remarked, going 
 to the stove, where a fire was already started. 
 
 " Yes, and you were quite successful. My throat 
 still remembers the scalding it received, when you 
 poured the hot coffee into my mouth." 
 
 " It was the only thing I could think of," he said 
 penitently. " You looked so cold and exhausted, I was 
 afraid I couldn't revive you." 
 
 " Few thanks you received for your efforts. I wasn't 
 very gracious, I'm afraid." 
 
 " It was no time for exchange of courtesies. You 
 were such a helpless, desolate, bewildered creature, my 
 only thought was of your misery and how I might re- 
 lieve it." 
 
 " I know it," she said in a low voice, pausing in her 
 occupation and looking dreamily out of the window.
 
 3 io THE STAKE 
 
 " I have thought many, many times of your unselfish- 
 ness, and how little I did to show my appreciation and 
 gratitude." 
 
 " It wasn't all unselfishness on my part," said Wes- 
 ton, coming to her side. "If I restrained my feel- 
 ings, it was because you were alone, and I your only 
 protector. I knew it would be a base thing to take 
 advantage of your helplessness, but I was tempted. I 
 I loved you, and I wanted to tell you so." 
 
 " But you conquered yourself you overcame your 
 infatuation ? " she asked softly. 
 
 He stood for a moment, breathless hardly daring 
 to speak. 
 
 " You know that I love you now, Louise, more than 
 ever more than I can tell you. I conquered the im- 
 pulse to win you unfairly, but it only served to 
 strengthen my love, until my life has become nothing 
 without you." 
 
 For a moment she studied his face earnestly, while a 
 look of unutterable happiness seemed to shine in her 
 eyes. His hand was stretched out to her and she took 
 it in both of hers, as she whispered : 
 
 " I am glad glad that the man I love is is just 
 you." 
 
 There were footsteps outside, and they started apart, 
 just as Dicky burst into the room. 
 
 " Hi, Aunt Louise ! " he shouted. " Come on out 
 doors. There's a big ship sailing by." 
 
 " I can't just now, dear," she said, seizing the 
 youngster, and kissing him. Then as Dicky deliberately 
 wiped his cheek on his sleeve and rolled his eyes slowly
 
 THE STAKE 311 
 
 from one of his friends to the other, she added with a 
 laugh : 
 
 " You see, we're busy getting lunch ready." 
 
 " I guess I'd better go and find mamma," said the 
 boy, backing out of the door. 
 
 It was not long before he returned with his mother 
 and Dr. Stewart, who, observing an unusual flush on 
 Louise's cheek, and Weston's exultant manner, became 
 convinced of the success of their experiment, but wisely 
 made no comment upon it. 
 
 " How about lunch ? " inquired the doctor. 
 
 " We were just waiting for the coffee to boil," said 
 Louise, bending over the table to smooth a very annoy- 
 ing wrinkle in the cloth. 
 
 " What's the matter with serving it now, before it 
 runs all over the stove?" laughed Stewart, pointing to 
 the neglected coffee-pot, out of which the amber liquid 
 was bubbling and spurting over the sides. 
 
 " Aunt Louise has been crying," announced Dicky as 
 though making a discovery. 
 
 " Dicky Carson, what a fib ! " exclaimed Louise, turn- 
 ing her back upon the company, and giving her atten- 
 tion to the coffee. 
 
 " You have, too. You spilled tears all over my face 
 when you kissed me," declared the boy positively. 
 
 Mrs. Carson smiled and glanced slyly at Weston, who 
 suddenly became very busy arranging seats at the table. 
 
 " Somebody will have to sit on the chest," he said. 
 " We're rather short of chairs." 
 
 " Never mind that," exclaimed Stewart, " so long as 
 you're not short of anything else."
 
 312 THE STAKE 
 
 " We certainly brought plenty to eat," remarked Mrs. 
 Carson, surveying the table. 
 
 "And here is the coffee," announced Louise, join- 
 ing the rest of the party. 
 
 After they were all seated, Dicky, who for lack of 
 a chair, was obliged to stand and enjoy his meal as 
 best he might, remarked between mouthfuls : 
 
 " Nobody pays any attention to me. You're all 
 havin' a good time 'cept me. All I can do, is just eat." 
 
 " Be thankful for that," said the doctor. 
 
 " I'd rather go fishin'," declared the boy. Then 
 turning to Weston, he said: 
 
 " Was you truly shipwrecked here or was you only 
 foolin'?" 
 
 " It was Aunt Louise who was shipwrecked," re- 
 plied the mother. " Mr. Crusoe was the one who res- 
 cued her. After we finish lunch, we'll have him show 
 us where it all happened." 
 
 A half-hour later, they all stood at the top of the 
 eastern slope, and looked down upon the jagged reef, 
 where the ill-fated yacht had been wrecked. Even in 
 the calm of that beautiful summer day, they could hear 
 the snarl of the sea as it licked the rocks, like some 
 savage beast waiting only for the lash of its master, to 
 rage and roar in its fury. 
 
 Clinging tightly to her lover's arm, Louise stood in 
 silence looking upon the spot and recalling to her mem- 
 ory the scenes of that time of death and disaster. The 
 others wandered on. 
 
 " It was the sea which gave you to me, dear," said 
 Weston. " For that one blessing I can forgive it much
 
 THE STAKE 313 
 
 of the evil it has done. This little spot of earth has 
 become very dear to me. I hate to leave it." 
 
 "But we will come here again won't we?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " When we are married," he replied. " Let's spend 
 our honeymoon here." 
 
 She pressed his arm tighter, and made no reply. 
 
 " Hurry up, you dreamers ! " cried Stewart, as they 
 approached the cabin. " The skipper has been calling 
 us for the last half hour. It's four o'clock, and a long 
 way back. Mrs. Carson and I have no desire to repeat 
 your experience in this barren place." 
 
 It was after sunset when they reached the hotel. 
 Louise and Mrs. Carson were to leave for Boston the 
 next day, and, of course, Stewart was to go with them. 
 
 Weston remained an hour or more, until, one by one, 
 the guests of the hotel retired indoors. Finally Mrs. 
 Carson rose, bade them good night, and, followed by 
 the doctor, disappeared within, leaving the lovers alone 
 to their whispered confidences, and happy dreams. 
 
 At last Weston found courage to tear himself away. 
 
 " I must go now, dear. I may not see you in the 
 morning, but in a few days I will be with you in Boston. 
 Good night!" 
 
 The moon, that modest friend of all lovers, was good 
 enough to cover her face with a passing cloud, and their 
 parting was for no other eyes to see.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE impatience of lovers has always been accepted 
 as a natural and incurable condition. Dick Wes- 
 ton was no exception in that interesting class of young 
 men. Each day found him entangled in matters con- 
 cerning his uncle's estate, and his time was equally 
 divided between writing page after page to Louise, and 
 long and tedious interviews with Squire Guilford, 
 whose method of managing his trust, was upon the 
 theory that legality of his acts as executor of the will, 
 required most roundabout, laborious and deliberate 
 procedure on his part. To add to his annoyance, Mrs. 
 Briggs had assumed the irritating air of one who has 
 been deeply wronged, but has submitted with fortitude 
 to the unjust and cruel persecution of fate. She spoke 
 only in monosyllables, and then always with a deep sigh. 
 The expression of her face was that of one who has 
 suffered some awful calamity. At another time Wes- 
 ton would have been amused, but now it only added to 
 his vexation. Whenever he moved about the house she 
 followed him at a distance, gazing after him in mourn- 
 ful silence, until he became almost convinced that she 
 was meditating a transfer of her affections to him. 
 
 One day a happy thought struck him, and he looked 
 up to where she stood mournfully watching him at his 
 dinner.
 
 THE STAKE 
 
 315 
 
 " By the way, Mrs. Briggs," he said. " You have a 
 sister living somewhere, haven't you ? " 
 
 " Yes," she sighed. 
 
 " Wouldn't you like to make her a visit? You need 
 a rest, I'll pay the expense. What do you say ? " 
 
 "Ye want t' git red o' me, don't ye?" replied the 
 widow sadly. " I've ben expectin' it. I've ben lookin' 
 t' be druv out." 
 
 " Nothing of the kind," exclaimed Weston, impa- 
 tiently. " I simply wanted to give you an opportunity 
 to visit your sister." 
 
 " Yes, I know," sniffed the widow. " Perlite way o' 
 sayin' * ye ain't wanted.' They wuz a time " 
 
 " Oh, come, Mrs. Briggs ! " cried Weston. " I can't 
 stand that kind of talk. Stay here if you want to. 
 You can enjoy the pleasure of your own company. I'm 
 going to Boston to-morrow. Guilford and his con- 
 founded legal papers can go to thunder." 
 
 Mrs. Briggs threw up her hands and gave a little 
 squeak of terror. 
 
 " Ye ain't goin' t' throw up th' hull thing? " she cried. 
 
 " If I get excited," said Weston, solemnly rolling his 
 eyes, " I may set fire to this house, donate the farm to 
 the cemetery association, and bury myself alive on 
 Roger's Island. My advice to you, is to go and visit 
 your sister." 
 
 Mrs. Briggs gulped hard twice, and with each gulp 
 her eyes slowly closed and opened. Speechless with 
 amazement, she backed cautiously towards the door, felt 
 instinctively for the handle, and, still watching Weston 
 with that look of terror, she disappeared from the room.
 
 316 THE STAKE 
 
 Weston leaned back in his chair and sighed. The 
 threat he had made of going to Boston the next day, 
 re-awakened the ever-present longing to be with Louise. 
 He was tempted to break away from his bonds and go 
 to her, in spite of the protest which he knew would 
 come from the old squire. With this thought in mind 
 he strolled over to Guilford's, where he found the old 
 gentleman putting his horses in the stable, after his daily 
 trip to the station. 
 
 " Hullo, Dick ! " cried the squire. " Ye're over early. 
 Waal, we c'n start right in an' go over that there bank 
 account. 'Tain't been balanced fer three years. Must 
 be about a hunnerd checks t' look over. Jes' like 
 Honest Dick ! He trusted ev'rybody. Like's not they's 
 a mistake. He'd never know th' difference." 
 
 " Don't you think, under the circumstances," sug- 
 gested Dick, " that we ought to accept the statement, 
 without checking it over just out of respect for 
 uncle's wishes ? " 
 
 The squire paused in currying, whacked the comb 
 against the side of the stall, and looked hard at the 
 young man. 
 
 " Gosh ! All fish-hooks ! " he said, emphatically. 
 " Yew ain't a-goin' t' be as careless as he was, be ye ? " 
 
 " But couldn't it be postponed until another time ? " 
 asked Dick. 
 
 " Pos'poned? Oh, I s'pose we c'd let it wait a few 
 days. They's plenty besides t' do. There's them notes 
 has got to have the int'rest figgered on 'em. Two o* 
 them fellers claims they paid the int'rest, an' it wan't 
 put on th' note. I s'pose they've been workin* thet kind
 
 THE STAKE 317 
 
 of a game on yer uncle before, an' think they c'n fool 
 me. Of course if they'd ha' said to him they'd paid it, 
 he'd take their word fer it. He wuz jest thet easy- 
 goin'." 
 
 " That could be fixed up later, just as well couldn't 
 it ? " inquired Dick, trying to find an opening for his 
 project. 
 
 " It's got t' be done some time," replied the squire, 
 rubbing down the horse. " They's all them deeds an' 
 abstracts t' look over, too. Might as well do one thing 
 at a time." 
 
 " See here, Squire ! " said Weston, with determina- 
 tion. " Why can't you figure all this out, without me ? 
 I'm not familiar with such things, and you're a regular 
 expert." 
 
 Gtiilford laid down his brush and came out of the 
 stall. 
 
 " Say, boy ! " he said. " Whut's th' matter with ye? 
 Don't ye want t' find out about yer prop'ty ? " 
 
 " No," replied Weston, with a shrug of his shoul- 
 ders. " I'd rather go back to Boston." 
 
 The squire eyed him shrewdly for a moment, and 
 then with a silent laugh working the muscles of his 
 face, he whispered: 
 
 "Is it th' little gal, Dick?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Waal, why didn't ye say so ? " roared the old man. 
 " Go an' do yer courtin'. I'll look arter th' prop'ty. 
 Say is she kind o' comin' your way eh?" 
 
 Weston nodded confidentially. 
 
 " Hev ye hev ye popped? "
 
 3 i8 THE STAKE 
 
 "Yes, and " 
 
 " Whut? An' she took ye up? Glory hallelujah! I 
 knowed it'd come. I mus' go an' tell mother. Me an' 
 her hed it all fixed up thet day ye wuz here t' supper. 
 Gosh, I'm tickled as a young buck. Yew go right along 
 an' see her. I'll look arter things here. Bless her 
 heart. Jes' tell her I give my consent. Why, boy, ye 
 ain't treatin' her right t' stay here. Ye ought t' be 
 waitin' on her ev'ry night, an' takin' her t' parties an' 
 circuses, an' prayer-meetin's." 
 
 It is needless to say that Weston required no urging, 
 and the result of his easy victory over the squire, was 
 his appearance the following evening at the door of 
 Senator Ellsworth's residence. 
 
 After his arrival in Boston that afternoon, he had 
 taken time to call on his old friend, Rankin ; then, dress- 
 ing with unusual care in his room at the hotel, he had 
 taken a cab and had driven as rapidly as an extra tip 
 could hasten the driver. 
 
 As he ascended the broad stone steps of the stately 
 mansion, he could not overcome a feeling of nervous- 
 ness. The two letters he had received from Louise 
 during their short separation, were just what any sensi- 
 ble lover would expect ; but a sensible lover is a rarity, 
 and the rapid succession of events in his brief court- 
 ship, had given Dick Weston little time to steady his 
 nerves. Standing before the door, with his finger on 
 the electric button, his heart misgave him, and to the 
 servant who answered his ring, he could only stammer 
 forth a request to see Senator Ellsworth. 
 
 " Certainly, sir. The name, please."
 
 THE STAKE 319 
 
 " Mr. Weston. Wait a minute. Here is my card." 
 
 He was ushered into a small reception-room, where 
 he had a moment's time to collect his senses. Then 
 just as he was beginning to wish that he had asked for 
 Louise, the maid reappeared. 
 
 " Senator Ellsworth will see you in the library, sir," 
 she announced, holding aside the heavy draperies for 
 him to pass out into the hall. 
 
 Weston followed her with quickened pulse, and was 
 ushered into the opposite room. 
 
 "Ah, Mr. Weston! Glad to see you!" exclaimed 
 the senator, coming forward to greet the young man. 
 
 Weston bowed formally, and accepted the chair 
 which was offered him. 
 
 " I have been expecting you for the past two days," 
 continued the senator, resuming his seat and his cigar. 
 " I thought your good fortune would make you anxious 
 to see me sooner. Most young men who had won such 
 a prize as you have, would be impatient to have the 
 matter settled beyond any question." 
 
 " Then, Louise has told you, sir ? " inquired Weston 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Louise ! " exclaimed the senator, removing his cigar, 
 and looking sternly at the young man. " What do you 
 mean ? What has Miss Ellsworth to do with this ? " 
 
 " Our engagement I thought " stammered Wes- 
 ton. 
 
 "Your engagement?" said the senator, leaning back 
 in his chair, and staring at the discomfited lover in 
 astonishment. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Dick, trying to muster his courage.
 
 320 THE STAKE 
 
 " Louise and I love each other, and I understood from 
 your words, that she had told you." 
 
 " No," said the senator, eyeing the young man, 
 soberly. " This is all news to me. I thought you came 
 here to close that deal for your land." 
 
 Then with a dry laugh he added : 
 
 " You are not slow for a fledgling. You managed to 
 get out of me a long price for your property, and now 
 you propose to take my daughter away from me. 
 Where will you hit me next ? " 
 
 " You fixed the price yourself," said Weston, flush- 
 ing under the insinuation. 
 
 " I know I did. You put me in a corner. I'm sorry 
 now I didn't deal with your man Rankin. He was a 
 good trader, and put up a first-class fight, but you 
 you threw the whole thing overboard by appealing to 
 my honor. It's the first time in all my business career 
 I ever had that happen to me." 
 
 " Do you regret it now ? " asked Weston. 
 
 " Eh ? No ! I don't regret it. It was a weak piece 
 of business on my part, but we had to have the land, 
 even at your price." 
 
 " Your price," said Weston, smiling. 
 
 " Yes, I'll admit that it was my price," replied the 
 senator in better humor. " You got just what I thought 
 it was worth a half million dollars. And, by the 
 way, Travis left the contract here for your signature. 
 The deed, of course, will have to wait until the settle- 
 ment of your uncle's estate. All we need from you now 
 is your written agreement to sell. Perhaps it would be 
 well to have the executor of your uncle's will sign with
 
 THE STAKE 321 
 
 you. Travis has passed on the title, and drawn the con- 
 tract. We are to pay you now one hundred thousand 
 dollars, and the balance when the deed is delivered. 
 Suppose you stop in at Travis's office to-morrow morn- 
 ing, and go over the matter with him. You will have 
 to acknowledge the contract before a notary, and can 
 leave it there with him. He will give you a check for 
 the first payment. This will make you a wealthy man, 
 Weston. What are you going to do with all this 
 money? Why not invest it in some of our stock? It's 
 bound to advance, as soon as this purchase is announced. 
 Or, if you want to speculate on your information, sell 
 some of the Lucky Jack stock, short." 
 
 " I'm thinking of buying Lucky Jack," said Weston. 
 
 " Buying ? You surely don't mean that, my boy ! 
 Lucky Jack stock will go down thirty points as soon 
 as it's known that they can't get your land." 
 
 " Isn't there any other copper land they can get ? " 
 
 " Yes, if they had the cash, but that is just what they 
 have not, nor will anyone furnish the money for them. 
 Everybody is afraid to go into the game against us." 
 
 " Why don't you take them in with you ? " 
 
 " Take them in ? " The senator laughed aloud. 
 " We'll take them in, by and by, but on our own terms." 
 
 " What is their property worth ? As much as mine ? " 
 asked Weston. 
 
 " More. The Lucky Jack is a developed property ; 
 yours is not much more than a prospect, although I 
 don't mind telling you now, that we have been secretly 
 tapping your land at various points to test the ore de- 
 posit. But the Lucky Jack needs more ore-bearing land
 
 322 THE STAKE 
 
 to join what they have. That's why we were so anxious 
 to get yours before they had a chance at it. You see 
 it was a case of the early bird getting the worm." 
 
 " Worm is a mild word to express the opinion I have 
 of myself," said Weston. His voice had a new sound, 
 and the senator looked up in surprise. 
 
 "How's that?" said he. 
 
 " I made a fool of myself," replied the young man. 
 " You are mistaken, Senator, if you think you were the 
 early bird. The Lucky Jack people were the first to ap- 
 proach me. In fact, the property was virtually given 
 to their agent to sell." 
 
 " You surprise me, Weston. This is a strange story 
 you are telling me. What price did you put on the 
 land?" 
 
 " None at all. I simply told Rankin to dispose of it 
 for what it was worth, or what he thought it was worth." 
 
 "Rankin?" 
 
 "Yes, Rankin! He is the real owner of the Lucky 
 Jack property. The fellows who are working it have 
 only a lease. Rankin owns the property, and part of 
 the stock of the company. He and his friends control 
 the stock ; the rest of the stock was put on the market 
 to furnish money for the plant and first operating ex- 
 penses." 
 
 Senator Ellsworth listened to all this, his face a pic- 
 ture of bewilderment. 
 
 " I don't understand this, Weston. If Rankin had 
 your land, why did he try to sell it to me ? " 
 
 " Because he knew you could pay me more for it than 
 he could."
 
 THE STAKE 
 
 323 
 
 " Upon my word, Weston, this is the most singular 
 thing that has occurred in all my business experience. 
 Do you mean to say that the Lucky Jack Company, or 
 Mr. Rankin, if he is the real owner, had an option on 
 your land, at their own figure, and then deliberately let 
 it slip through their fingers, and actually helped you to 
 sell it to me? The idea is incredible. What could in- 
 duce Rankin to do it? Is it possible that my reports 
 are incorrect, and this land is worthless? If this man, 
 Rankin, has outwitted me in my own game, then it is 
 time for me to retire from business." 
 
 Weston smiled. 
 
 " Rankin's motives in this whole transaction were en- 
 tirely unselfish. I was astonished when I learned the 
 facts, because I had misjudged the man's character, and 
 didn't believe him capable of such generosity as he has 
 shown. Let me tell you about it, and perhaps you will 
 understand him better. 
 
 " He and my uncle were companions in their early 
 days, and close friends. Both of them were in love 
 with nature, and fond of life in the woods. In order 
 that they might have a spot of earth which they could 
 call their own, away from the rest of the world, they 
 acquired possession of these two tracts of land lying 
 side by side, and there they lived together for a number 
 of years. You can imagine, perhaps, the bond of affec- 
 tion which grew between them. It never ceased to hold 
 them, although, in later years, they were separated. All 
 this, I knew, Senator, and gave it but a passing thought, 
 never dreaming that when I inherited my uncle's prop- 
 erty, I also inherited the good-will of his old friend.
 
 3 2 4 THE STAKE 
 
 And now he has done for me in my ignorance, what he 
 would have done for my uncle, sacrificed his own ad- 
 vantage, in order that I might be the gainer. You say 
 it is incredible that he should do this. I'll admit that, 
 in the ordinary ways of business, it is unusual. Never- 
 theless, this man has shown us that there is something 
 to consider besides personal advantage." 
 
 "If your theory is correct," remarked the senator, 
 dryly, "he has certainly made a great sacrifice for a 
 romantic idea of friendship." 
 
 " If the problem came to you, wouldn't you do the 
 same?" 
 
 The senator frowned. 
 
 " I rarely let sentiment interfere with business," he 
 replied. 
 
 " This wasn't a question of sentiment, but of honor," 
 said Weston. 
 
 " Practically the same thing." 
 
 "No, sir. Not the same thing. If that were true, 
 how do you explain your action the other night ? " 
 
 The senator shook his head. 
 
 " That was the strangest experience in all my life. 
 I sometimes think that I was out of my senses at the 
 time." 
 
 " Wouldn't you do the same thing again ? " asked 
 Weston. 
 
 " I'm not sure. I hope the occasion will never arise 
 again. However, my boy, I'm glad that my foolish 
 lapse and your friend's sentiment have resulted so fa- 
 vorably for you." 
 
 "I've thought of that," said Weston, quietly. "I
 
 THE STAKE 
 
 325 
 
 owe a great deal to both of you, and I feel that, in some 
 way, I ought to pay the debt. In Rankin's case I can 
 see a way to recompense him for his sacrifice. But in 
 your case " 
 
 " In my case," interrupted the senator, smiling for 
 the first time. " In my case, you have further designs." 
 
 Weston flushed. 
 
 " I understand what you mean," he said thoughtfully. 
 " I hope you will consent to give me your daughter's 
 hand in marriage. But there is another sacrifice which 
 I have to ask of you." 
 
 He hesitated a moment, and then said bravely : 
 
 " Senator, I wish you would do for Rankin and his 
 associates wEat you have done for me. Buy their prop- 
 erty from them and pay them their price. Take them 
 in with you on a fair basis. You say the property is 
 worth more than mine. If you want it, why not pay 
 them what it is worth ? " 
 
 The senator gazed at the young man in astonishment. 
 
 " What? " he cried. " Pay a half million dollars for 
 the Lucky Jack property, after we have them whipped? 
 Why, boy, you talk like a fool. Be satisfied with what 
 you have. Don't try to draw me into any more of your 
 Utopian ideas." 
 
 " They're not whipped yet," said Weston, looking up 
 quickly. 
 
 " Not whipped yet? They're whipped to a finish. 
 They haven't a leg to stand on. We've got them en- 
 closed in a net. We have all the land east of them, 
 and now, with yours, we have all the land west of 
 them."
 
 326 THE STAKE 
 
 " How about the land south of them ? " 
 
 "They can't get it. It takes a half million dollars 
 cash to buy it, and they couldn't raise fifty thousand dol- 
 lars now." 
 
 " That's where you are mistaken." 
 
 "Eh! Mistaken? Not I, my boy. When I closed 
 with you for your land, I put the last nail in their cof- 
 fin. It was an expensive piece of business, but it ac- 
 complished the desired result." 
 
 " Suppose the Lucky Jack Company could raise the 
 money and buy this land south of them, what effect 
 would that have?" 
 
 " It would block our game temporarily perhaps. We 
 would have to try another move. But that won't occur. 
 We will buy the land, ourselves, before we let the Lucky 
 Jack Company have it." 
 
 " You can't buy it," said Weston quietly. 
 
 " Oh, yes, we can, and we will, when we get the price 
 down where we want it." 
 
 " You can't buy it now," repeated Weston more de- 
 cidedly. 
 
 " What makes you think so ? " 
 
 " Because the Lucky Jack Company bought it to-day. 
 That is to say, they have closed the deal, and made a 
 payment on the price." 
 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 " Rankin told me so to-day." 
 
 " Rankin ? " exclaimed the senator, suspiciously. 
 " Where does he expect to get the money? " 
 
 " From me." 
 
 "What?" shouted the senator, springing to his feet.
 
 THE STAKE 327 
 
 " You tell me this ! You furnish the money ! Where 
 do you expect to get it ? " 
 
 " From you." 
 
 "From me? Ha! Ha! Ha! That's a good joke! 
 So you think you can draw me into this kind of a 
 scheme, do you ? Never ! I've spent six months trying 
 to bring those fellows to time, and I'm not likely to turn 
 in and help them out of the hole where I put them." 
 
 " But I intend to use the money which you are to pay 
 me for my land," exclaimed Weston. 
 
 Senator Ellsworth, who was walking up and down 
 the room, stopped short, and steadied himself against 
 a chair. With a countenance in which anger and fear 
 struggled for the mastery, he said hoarsely: 
 
 " My God, boy ! You don't intend to play that trick 
 on me, do you? After I've paid you a big price for 
 your land, you wouldn't be mean enough to give the 
 money to those fellows to fight me with ? " 
 
 " I hope there'll be no fight," said Weston, calmly. 
 " But if there is to be one, my sympathy will all be with 
 the weaker side." 
 
 " If you are counting on the money you expect to re- 
 ceive from me for your land, you'd better wait until 
 you get it. Suppose I repudiate the deal, and refuse 
 to take your land ? " 
 
 " I have thought of that, but not seriously," replied 
 Weston. " It would be so dishonorable, I don't believe 
 you would do it. However, if that condition should 
 
 * 99 
 
 arise, 
 
 He paused and observed the other man gravely. 
 "Well, what would you do?"
 
 328 THE STAKE 
 
 " Lease my property to the Lucky Jack Company." 
 
 Ellsworth seated himself, and lighted a fresh cigar. 
 The problem was one which required thought, and he 
 wanted time to study this new phase of the game. For 
 some time no word was spoken. In Weston's heart 
 there was no thought of vengeance, but only a desire 
 to prevent a great wrong; to establish in the mind of 
 the man before him a true sense of justice. 
 
 The audacity of his attack rilled him with misgivings. 
 It seemed a bold thing for him to dictate terms to this 
 man, in whose hands others were willing to leave mil- 
 lions in trust. He had a feeling that he ought to apolo- 
 gize, and, as he raised his eyes and found the other man 
 observing him closely, he flushed with sudden embar- 
 rassment. 
 
 " You were saying something awhile ago about my 
 daughter," remarked the senator, slowly. "Of course 
 you will hardly expect much favor from me now in that 
 direction." 
 
 Weston's eyes flashed angrily. 
 
 "That threat is unworthy of you, sir," he cried. 
 " Through my love for her, I have learned to accept 
 her faith in you, and to believe you worthy of my re- 
 spect and my affection. I have learned from her to 
 know you better than you know yourself. I am con- 
 vinced that you do not intend to wrong anyone, and yet 
 you seem to overlook the harm and suffering your meth- 
 ods inflict on others. Take these very men you are trying 
 to force out of business, you would be among the first 
 to help them if you found them in adversity, wouldn't 
 you ? Why not help them now ? Here is my proposition :
 
 THE STAKE 329 
 
 suppose you take the money you would have to pay me 
 for my land, and buy the Lucky Jack property instead. 
 Then you can lease mine on any reasonable terms you 
 want to make." 
 
 Weston's face was glowing with animation. The 
 elder man gazed at him in astonishment. 
 
 " That's a queer proposition," he said with a frown. 
 " There's no reason in the world why I should do such 
 a thing." 
 
 "It's the only way we can be fair to Rankin," de- 
 clared Weston fearlessly. 
 
 The senator leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, 
 and pressed his hand to his forehead. 
 
 " I'm getting too old for business," he said, slowly. 
 " This is my last deal. When a man stops to consider 
 the advantage or disadvantage to his opponents, his days 
 of usefulness are past. The zest of the game is gone. 
 Skillful tactics, shrewd insight, quick perception of 
 values, all these count for nothing in business strug- 
 gles, if personal sentiment is to interfere. Men will 
 criticize me for this. They will never believe the mo- 
 tive. They will ascribe it to weakening judgment, to 
 failing intellect." 
 
 " Then you will do it ? " asked Weston eagerly, lean- 
 ing forward in his excitement, and holding out his hand 
 to his companion. 
 
 " Your plan is not feasible," remarked the senator, 
 wearily, " but I will make a proposition to your friends 
 which they will be glad to accept in fact, a conces- 
 sion they have been trying to get from me for some 
 time, admitting them to our consolidation of interests.
 
 330 THE STAKE 
 
 They will be satisfied, and I shall be spared any further 
 annoyance. As for you " 
 
 There was a tap at the door, it opened, and Louise en- 
 tered the room. 
 
 "May I disturb you a moment, Father?" she said. 
 Then as she came face to face with Weston, she stopped 
 in astonishment, and with a low cry sprang into his out- 
 stretched arms. 
 
 " Oh, Dick ! " was all she could say ; then turned to 
 face her father, with shining eyes, in which was a look 
 of anxious inquiry. 
 
 " Mr. Weston has decided to take me for a father- 
 in-law," said the senator dryly. Then as she came to 
 his side and put her arms about his neck to kiss him, he 
 added with a laugh : 
 
 "And I have been willing yes, willing to accept 
 his conditions." 
 
 He pressed her head between his hands, kissed her, 
 then gently gave her back to Weston. 
 
 " Your mother will be relieved to know that you have 
 overcome your infatuation for that fellow who saved 
 your life from shipwreck," he said with a smile. " She 
 has been worried for fear you would fall in love with 
 him." 
 
 Louise's eyes sparkled as she looked up into her 
 lover's face. 
 
 " That was Mr. Crusoe," she said roguishly. " I'm 
 not sure yet that I don't love him better than I do you." 
 
 As they passed out of the room together, the senator 
 dropped wearily into a chair. 
 
 " When a man reaches my age," he murmured, " I
 
 THE STAKE 331 
 
 suppose it's time for him to square accounts with his 
 conscience. What do the Scriptures say; 'out of the 
 mouths of babes and sucklings ' we are to learn wis- 
 dom? I must get some theological works on the moral 
 obligations of syndicates, or I'll ask Dr. Peters to preach 
 a sermon some day on ' How to get the better of a man 
 and make him happy in doing so.' I suppose he would 
 choose for his text ' Do unto others as you would that 
 they should do unto you.' " 
 
 He examined the end of his cigar, saw that it was out, 
 and threw it away. 
 
 " I suppose He was right," he sighed. " But it's 
 hard to apply it to modern business methods."
 
 llllllMlii inn MHI ! 
 
 A 000 038 731 6