for the silver vein; and then, if she was persuaded it could not be
found, she would have paid her debt and be free to lead the life that
others led. In the meantime, she was, so to speak, set apart, like a
nun, from common joys and sorrows by a vow that must be kept. Perhaps
this was an exaggeration, but it was partly true.

Banishing her thoughts, she put away the map and opened her book, but
soon afterwards a servant brought in a card and stated that a man wished
to see her. On the card was printed _John Stormont_ and the number of a
post-office box at Winnipeg.

"I don't know Mr. Stormont," Agatha remarked. "But if he wants to see
me, you may show him in."

A few moments later a man entered the room. He was young and neatly
dressed, and smiled urbanely as he bowed.

"Miss Strange, I suppose? If you are not much occupied, I hope you can
give me a few minutes."

Agatha, feeling curious, indicated a chair and studied him when he sat
down. His voice was rather harsh, his glance was quick, and his alert
manner implied self-confidence. There was, however, nothing else to be
remarked about him, and she thought him a common type of young business
man.

"I am not engaged just now," she replied.

"Thank you," said Stormont. "Perhaps I'd better state that I'm pretty
well known in Winnipeg, where I do business in real estate and sometimes