appointments was intrusted to him. At the end of the week Mr. Woodridge
took him aside.

"I say, you ain't got any job in view arter you finish up here, hev ye?"

Reddy started. Scarcely ten days ago he had a hundred projects, schemes,
and speculations, more or less wild and extravagant, wherewith he was to
avenge and recoup himself in San Francisco. Now they were gone he knew
not where and how. He briefly said he had not.

"Because," continued Woodridge, "I've got an idea of startin' a hotel in
the Oak Grove, just on the slope back o' the rancho. The company's bound
to make some sort o' settlement there for the regular hands, and the
place is pooty enough for 'Frisco people who want to run over here and
get set up for a day or two. Thar's plenty of wood and water up thar,
and the company's sure to have a wharf down on the shore. I'll provide
the capital, if you will put in your time. You can sling in ez much
style as you like there" (this was an allusion to Reddy's attempt to
enliven the blank walls with colored pictures from the illustrated
papers and green ceanothus sprays from the slope); "in fact, the more
style the better for them city folks. Well, you think it over."

He did. But meantime he seemed to make little progress in his court of
the superintendent's daughter. He tried to think it was because he had
allowed himself to be diverted by his work, but although she always
betrayed the same odd physical consciousness of his presence, it was
certain that she never encouraged him. She gave him the few directions
that his new occupation still made necessary, and looked her approval
of his success. But nothing more. He was forced to admit that this was
exactly what she might have done as the superintendent's daughter to a