For a year and a half Darrell worked uninterruptedly at Ophir, his

constantly increasing commissions from eastern States testifying to his

marked ability as a mining expert.

Notwithstanding the incessant demands upon his time, he still adhered to

his old rule, reserving a few hours out of each twenty-four, which he

devoted to scientific or literary study, as his mood impelled. He soon

found himself again drawn irresistibly towards the story begun during

his stay at the Hermitage, but temporarily laid aside on his return

east. He carefully reviewed the synopsis, which he had written in

detail, and as he did, he felt himself entering into the spirit of the

story till it seemed once more part of his own existence. He revised the

work already done, eliminating, adding, making the outlines clearer,

more defined; then, with steady, unfaltering hand, carried the work

forward to completion.

Eighteen months after his re-establishment at Ophir he was commissioned

to go to Alaska to examine certain mining properties in a deal involving

over a million dollars, and, anxious to be on the ground as early as

possible, he took the first boat north that season. His story was

published on the eve of his departure. He received a few copies, which

he regarded with a half-fond, half-whimsical air. One he sent to Kate

Underwood, having first written his initials on the fly-leaf underneath

the brief petition, "Be merciful." He then went his way, his time and

attention wholly occupied by his work, with little thought as to whether

the newly launched craft was destined to ride the waves of popularity or

be engulfed beneath the waters of oblivion.

Months of constant travel, of hard work and rough fare, followed. His

report on the mines was satisfactory, the deal was consummated, and he

received a handsome percentage, but not content with this, determined to

familiarize himself with the general situation in that country and the

conditions obtaining, he pushed on into the interior, pursuing his

explorations till the return of the cold season. Touching at British

Columbia on his way home and finding tempting inducements there in the

way of mining properties, he stopped to investigate, and remained during

the winter and spring months.

It was therefore not until the following June that he found himself

really homeward bound and once more within the mountain ranges guarding

the approach to the busy little town of Ophir.

He had been gone considerably over a year; he had accumulated a vast

amount of information invaluable for future work along his line, and he

had succeeded financially beyond his anticipations. Occasionally during

his absence, in papers picked up here and there, he had seen favorable

mention of his story, from which he inferred that his first venture in

the realms of fiction had not been quite a failure, and in this opinion

he was confirmed by a letter just received from his publishers, which

had followed him for months. But all thought of these things was for the

time forgotten in an almost boyish delight that he was at last on his

way home.




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024