A Daughter of the Land

"What's biting you now?" he demanded, sullenly.

Kate stood tall and straight before and above him "If you have a good plan, if you can prove that it will work, what

is the necessity for 'wheedling' anybody? Why not state what you

propose in plain, unequivocal terms, and let the dear, old soul,

who has done so much for us already, decide what she will do?"

"That's what I meant! That's all I meant!" he cried.

"In that case, 'wheedle' is a queer word to use."

"I believe you'd throw up the whole thing; I believe you'd let the

chance to be a rich woman slip through your fingers, if it all

depended on your saying only one word you thought wasn't quite

straight," he cried, half in assertion, half in question.

"I honour you in that belief," said Kate. "I most certainly

would."

"Then you turn the whole thing down? You won't have anything to

do with it?" he cried, plunging into stoop-shouldered, mouth-

sagging despair.

"Oh, I didn't SAY that!" said Kate. "Give me time! Let me think!

I've got to know that there isn't a snare in it, from the title of

the land to the grade of the creek bed. Have you investigated

that? Is your ravine long enough and wide enough to dam it high

enough at our outlet to get your power, and yet not back water on

the road, and the farmers above you? Won't it freeze in winter?

and can you get strong enough power from water to run a large saw?

I doubt it!"

"Oh, gee! I never thought about that!" he cried.

"And if it would work, did you figure the cost of a dam into your

estimate of the building and machinery?"

He snapped his fingers in impatience.

"By heck!" he cried, "I forgot THAT, too! But that wouldn't cost

much. Look what we did in that ravine just for fun. Why, we

could build that dam ourselves!"

"Yes, strong enough for conditions in September, but what about

the January freshet?" she said.

"Croak! Croak! You blame old raven," cried George.

"And have you thought," continued Kate, "that there is no room on

the bank toward town to set your mill, and it wouldn't be allowed

there, if there were?"

"You bet I have!" he said defiantly. "I'm no such slouch as you

think me. I've even stepped off the location!"

"Then," said Kate, "will you build a bridge across the ravine to

reach it, or will you buy a strip from Linn and build a road?"

George collapsed with a groan.

"That's the trouble with you," said Kate. "You always build your

castle with not even sand for a foundation. The most nebulous of

rosy clouds serve you as perfectly as granite blocks. Before you

go glimmering again, double your estimate to cover a dam and a

bridge, and a lot of incidentals that no one ever seems able to

include in a building contract. And whatever you do, keep a still

head until we get these things figured, and have some sane idea of

what the venture would cost."