.
tired, and asked: "Where have you been since morning?"
Agatha indicated a ridge of high ground with a few pines on its summit that rose indistinctly at some distance across the shadowy forest.
"I took my lunch with me and went up there."
"But it must be a two or three hours' walk. Is there a trail?"
"A loggers' trail. It's partly grown up and broke off altogether when I got near the rocks. After that I had a rough scramble, but I like the woods and try to walk as much as possible in my holidays."
"Well, no doubt, walking is good for one. But don't the girls in Toronto prefer the street cars?"
"I don't go long walks for health's sake," Agatha answered with a smile. "But I think some people I know are waiting. Can you paddle faster?"
The canoe's bows lifted out of a wisp of foam as Thirlwell swung the paddle, and in a few minutes he helped the girl to land. After this, their acquaintance ripened fast and Agatha went fishing with him on the lake and, by disused logging trails, long distances into the shadowy bush. Thirlwell imagined she knew this excited some remark, but he saw there was an imperious vein in the girl, who did what she thought fit, without heeding conventions. Besides, no touch of sentiment marked their friendship; she accepted him as a comrade who could teach her something about lake and forest, and he was satisfied with this.
Yet he was puzzled. It was strange that an attractive girl should wish to learn something of the bush-man's skill, but she obviously meant to do so. Although it often cost her an effort to follow him, she would not let him turn back when they came to an angry rapid or a belt of tangled woods. She certainly had charm besides having pluck, because when she did not go fishing young women as well as young men gathered round her on the shady lawn. It was hard to imagine why a girl like this should practise walking long distances and combine the study of canoeing with geology.
The fortnight slipped by and on the last evening Thirlwell took Agatha out upon the lake. They were later than usual and as they stole across the glassy water the pines on a western headland cut black and sharp against an orange glow. To the east a faint track of silver ran back into the blue distance under the moon. It was very quiet except for the splash of the paddle and ripple at the bows, but somewhere in the shadows a loon was calling. By and by the lights of the hotel faded and they were alone in the dusk.
Thirlwell put down the paddle and lighted a cigarette. He had drawn nearer the girl in the last week; a curious feeling of confidence and liking united them, but he was not her lover and knew that if he drifted into philandering she would be repelled. Perhaps this was unusual, but she was different from other girls. Thirlwell could not tell how she differed, but he was satisfied that she did and let the matter go.
"You start for the mine to-morrow, don't you?" she asked presently.
"Yes," he said; "it's my last evening on the lake. There's something melancholy about the end of a holiday, but I don't think I have felt it as much before."
Agatha gave him a calm glance and saw he had not meant her to read a sentimental meaning in his admission. It was unconscious flattery and she was pleased.
"I can understand. One values the days of liberty when they are gone! But do you feel daunted by the thought of the work and hardship that waits you in the North?"
"Not in a way. Now and then you shrink from the arctic winter, but in summer, in spite of the mosquitoes, the bush gets hold of you. Sometimes you hate the solitude; but when you leave it you long to return."
"Ah," said Agatha, "I have not seen the wilderness, but next summer I hope to make an exploring trip."
"But where?"
"To the Shadow River and on into the Territories," she answered quietly. Thirlwell looked hard at her, and she smiled. "Yes; if things go well with me, I mean to look for the silver ore."
"Now I begin to understand! This is why you wanted to learn to manage a canoe and train yourself to walking through the bush. But it's a ridiculous undertaking. Your father, who found it, could not locate the ore again."
"I may be luckier. Luck counts for something when you go prospecting, doesn't it?"
"Success in prospecting is often due to luck," Thirlwell admitted. "But it's a very rough country where no food can be got. You will need canoes, tools, and tents, and two or three good packers to carry the outfit across the divides. This would be expensive. Then I doubt if you are strong enough to bear the strain; I imagine very few women could do so without breaking down."
"You have seen how I have tried to harden myself, but I have made other preparations. It's some time since I resolved to go, and every month I put by a little money. By next summer I ought to have enough."
"I wonder whether you found it easy to save."
"I did not," said Agatha, smiling. "Sometimes it was very hard; I should not have taken this holiday only that I wanted to get used to the lakes and woods. I am grateful for all you have taught me."
A thought that pleased him took shape in Thirlwell's brain, but he used some restraint. He must not encourage the girl in what he imagined was folly.
"The chance of your finding the vein is very small, and there's another thing. You have told me your father's story, and I have met men like him in the woods, who had wasted their money and lost their health following an illusion. The lode, so to speak, haunted him and made him restless when he might have been content at home, and then drove him into the wilds when he was old. It's dangerous to give oneself up to a fixed idea, and you mustn't let the infatuation get hold of you. It will bring you disappointment and trouble."
"The warning's too late," said Agatha in a curious quiet voice. "The infatuation has got hold of me, but one must follow one's bent, and life is tame if one does nothing that is not prudent and safe. Besides, romantic dreams sometimes come true."
"Not often," said Thirlwell dryly. "But why do you really want to go?"
"The silver is mine; my father gave it me. It looked as if my brother would prosper without his help, and I think he loved me best. Perhaps this was because I believed in the vein."
Thirlwell shook his head. "I cannot think you greedy."
"Then," said Agatha with a flush of color, "if you must have the truth, I feel I must finish my father's work. His son and his best friends thought him the victim of his imagination and the lode a joke; but if I succeed, his dreams will be justified."
Thirlwell said nothing for a minute or two; he saw that she was resolute and was moved by her staunch loyalty. After all, Strange's story was not uncommon; Thirlwell had known men leave work and home to follow an elusive clue to mineral treasure in the barren solitudes. Some had come back broken in fortune and courage, and some had not come back at all. Then while he mused the harsh cry of the loon rang through the dark. It fired his blood, and unconsciously he fixed his eyes on the North, for in summer the birds of the lakes and rivers push on towards the Pole. He had done his duty and tried to persuade the girl, but after all she was stronger and finer than Strange. It was possible that she might succeed, and he could help.
"When you go I hope you will let me come," he said. "We have the tools and outfit one needs for prospecting at the mine, and I could get the packers and canoes."
"But you don't believe I shall find the lode. Why do you want to come?"
"I know the bush," Thirlwell answered with a smile. "So far I've been prudent and stuck to my job, but I've felt the pull of the lone trail like other men. In fact, I'd rather like to do something rash, for a change."
"Have you never done anything rash?"
"Only once, I think. It needed all my pluck; but the curious thing is that it's now turning out better than I hoped."
Agatha pondered and then looked up. "It would be an advantage to have somebody I could trust to look after the packers and canoes; but the journey must be made at my cost. I couldn't let another undertake my duty."
"Then