street, and on the hill that led to John Grier's house.

Tarboe realized that the girl was drawn towards Carnac, and that Carnac
was drawn towards the girl, but that some dark depths lay between. The
letter Carnac had just received seemed to him the plumbline of that
abyss. Carnac and the girl were suited to each other--that was clear;
and the girl was enticing, provoking and bewildering--that was the
modelling fact. He had satisfaction that he had displaced Carnac in this
great business, and there was growing in him a desire to take away the
chances of the girl from Carnac also. With his nature it was inevitable.
Life to him was now a puzzle towards the solution of which he moved with
conquering conviction.

From John Grier's face now, he realized that something was to be said
affecting his whole career. It would, he was sure, alter his foot-steps
in the future. He had a profound respect for the little wiry man, with
the firm body and shrivelled face.

Tarboe watched the revealing expression of the old man's face and the
motions of his body. He noticed that the tight grip of the hand on the
little statue of the riverman had made the fingers pale. He realized how
absorbed was the lumber-king, who had given him more confidence than he
had given to anyone else in the world. As near as he could come to
anyone, he had come to John Grier. There had been differences between
them, but he, Tarboe, fought for his own idea, and, in nine cases out of
ten, had conquered. John Grier had even treated Tarboe's solutions as
though they were his own. He had a weird faith in the young giant. He
saw now Tarboe's eyes fixed on his fingers, and he released his grip.

"That's the thing between him and me, Tarboe," he said, nodding towards