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It was weeks before there came a break in the monotony of his work. He had forced himself to be cheerful about his stupid job and not to show by the least sign that he was not entirely content with the work he had been set to do. Mr. Taylor, who since the advent of the Chief, had taken charge of the office work, spoke to Mr. Whitney. “That boy, Hazard, is a good lad,” he said. “Although the plucky beggar won’t own up, I think he is eating his heart out at the draughting board. I can get along without him, so give him a chance outside if you can.” My, oh, my! Here he stood without any clothes on and with the boat-hook from the “Sea Mew” in his hand! And here came the merchant who owned the sail-boat. “I’m sure proud of you two,” he said warmly. “But I ought not to be. It was a foolhardy thing to do and if you had asked my permission I certainly would not have given it.” But as he reproved them his eyes glistened with the pride he felt. “I want to hear all about it, but first tell me, did you find a place where you think a dam could be built? There is a wonderful valley out there ready to spring into life if we only could get water to it.”.

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Bob gasped. He was sure that the match’s usefulness was over, but feverishly, throwing caution to the winds, he rasped the head against the planking of the door. So the two boys spent their Sunday apart. The canoe had belonged to one of the engineers who had left for another project, and the storekeeper who had bought it was willing to rent it out. Bob decided to go down stream the first day and take a look at the land which would be irrigated by the water stored up by the dam when it was finished. He took his lunch with him as he expected to make an all day trip of it. He walked back to the hotel, too overcome by the beauty of the thing he had seen to attempt talking of it. Evidently Steve Whitney knew how the boy felt, for he did not break the silence. But once inside the house Bob realized that it had been a long time since luncheon. “What?” exclaimed Bob, amazed..