The League of the Leopard. Bindloss Harold

to. Tell me instead how the pump is progressing."

      "The pump is not progressing," said the man. "In fact, it is standing still; and, though the court upheld my patent, it will probably continue to stand still for lack of capital. Capital is hard to acquire, you know."

      "But you were well paid, and promoted several times on your merits in South America, were you not?" asked Miss Chatterton.

      "I was lucky," Dane said quietly. "It was due to no merit of mine that my superiors died off with yellow fever; but when the inventor desires a fair share of the profit himself, it requires a good deal of money to start off pumps and similar inventions successfully."

      "You are growing avaricious," declared Miss Chatterton, and let her eyes fall a little under the man's gaze.

      "You are right," he said. "I would sell half my life to any one for the few thousand pounds the invention would repay twenty-fold; and somehow I shall get them."

      The listener fancied that this was possible, for there was a stamp of force and endurance upon the man; but she did not inquire why he was so anxious for wealth. While she considered her answer, and he wondered how he could best express what must be said, there was an interruption; for it happened a few moments earlier that the owner of The Larches flung down the balance-sheet he was perusing in a room which did not look out upon the lawn.

      "Those new directors are a pack of fools," he observed. "They are throwing away all I so painfully built up. I'm going to catch a trout in the moss pool; and, as I saw Maxwell's rascals putting up the fence again, I'll demolish his iniquitous obstruction on my way. Helen, where have these stupid people hidden my flybook again?"

      Mrs. Chatterton smiled a little, and, reminding her husband that the book was in his pocket, followed him to the door.

      Thomas Chatterton and the father of Hilton Dane had set up a little wire mill when both were struggling men, and, though Dane's rolling machinery had started them on the way to prosperity, its inventor died too soon. Chatterton was always considered an upright man; but, because Dane's widow did not long survive her husband, nobody knew exactly whether his success was due to his own energy or the dead man's invention. Chatterton, however, recognized a moral debt, and would have discharged it, but that Hilton Dane had inherited his mother's pride as well as his father's skill. When the famous business was sold to a company, the iron-master, purchasing a small estate in Scotland, aspired to play the part of a country gentleman, in which he was not wholly successful. He was at once too autocratic and too democratic; and the local magnates of ancient descent resented his habit of doing exactly what pleased himself in defiance of their most cherished traditions. He had accordingly embroiled himself with Maxwell of Culmeny over what he contended was an ancient right of way.

      When he reached the door he turned and smiled significantly at his wife.

      "They seem well contented, do they not?" he said.

      Mrs. Chatterton understood him, though she did not smile as she glanced at the two on the lawn. Lilian's white-robed figure was forced up sharply in a manner that emphasized its comeliness by the somber background of larches; and the last of the ruddy light deepened the faint, warm tinge in her cheeks. Dane's face was in the shadow, as he looked down upon the girl, but his form showing darkly against the light was that of a vigorous, well-made man; and Mrs. Chatterton, knowing his disposition, reflected that her niece might make a less desirable choice. It was, however, she thought, unfortunate that her husband was seldom addicted to leaving those he desired to benefit any choice at all; and she considered that he had made his intentions respecting Dane and his niece too plain, for Lilian had a tolerably strong will of her own.

      Chatterton moved forward, and the two turned sharply at the sight of the stout, thick-necked, elderly gentleman, in vivid red leggings and slouch hat adorned with gaudy flies.

      "We had neither time nor taste for needle-work when I was young, Hilton, but these are degenerate days," he said, with a twinkle in his eyes. "Do you feel inclined to help me to catch a trout during the evening rise?"

      Dane glanced appealingly toward his companion. He would have felt no great inclination for being sent into the river to free the iron-master's line, which usually formed part of the program on such excursions, even if he had not a better reason for refusing.

      "I am afraid the water is too clear, sir, for an indifferent angler; and it might spoil this skein if I left it partly wound," he answered lamely.

      Lilian, however, possibly for Chatterton's benefit, ignored the appeal.

      "So far you have only succeeded in entangling it," she said.

      Dane had no choice left but to express the pleasure it would afford him at least to carry his host's landing net; and he did it as well as possible, though uneasily conscious that Chatterton was amused at him. Then they waded together through long damp grass which soaked Dane's thin shoes through, while Chatterton discoursed learnedly upon lines and flies. He was as choleric and obstinate as he could be generous when the impulse seized him, and he had ruled stubborn operatives so long that the use of the strong hand had become habitual to him. Presently he halted, fuming with indignation, before a hedge.

      "That confounded Maxwell has built it up stronger than ever!" he exploded. "Look at that, and see how he respects a public right of way! Don't you consider it perfectly scandalous, Hilton?"

      Dane saw an irate elderly gentleman, and a neatly mended gap in the hedge; but being uncertain as to what answer would best soothe the former, he wisely held his peace until he should furnish further particulars. Chatterton, however, espying a stout stake in the grass, commenced a spirited attack upon the hedge. So vigorous was it that his face grew flushed and his hat fell off, while Dane looked on with suspicious gravity, smothering a desire to laugh.

      "If you really want that gap opened, I dare say I could assist you, sir," he said.

      Chatterton panted wrathfully.

      "Do you suppose I am doing this for exercise? It's a public duty! I have battered it down twice already, and defied Culmeny to sue me."

      He plied the stake again until, glancing from a root, it smote him on the ankle. Desisting then, he commented upon his neighbor's conduct viciously while Dane proceeded to attack the obstruction with marked success. Chatterton, when he noticed this, watched him admiringly; and when Dane tore his hand on a strand of barbed wire, he positively beamed on him.

      "I'm sorry, Hilton; but, in one way, it's almost a pity you did not tear it worse," he said. "Still, I dare say it will rankle sufficiently to give us something to claim damages from Culmeny upon. Meantime, go home and ask Lily to tie it up. Nobody could do it more neatly."

      "I certainly hope it will not, sir," said Dane, with a trace of irritation; though, being thankful for the excuse, he lost no time in returning.

      Meanwhile, Lilian Chatterton sat where he had left her, in a contemplative frame of mind. She and Dane had been playmates in their younger days, and the latter had afterward shown his admiration for her in youthful fashion. That was before he went abroad; but her cheeks tingled as she remembered how she had been made to feel, a few weeks earlier, that it was Chatterton's desire that their youthful friendship should speedily ripen into something further. Lilian was grateful to the iron-master, who had denied her nothing, and brought her up as his daughter; but she was also sensitive, and accordingly shrank from Dane, wondering, with a sense of shame, what had been said to him, and whether he, too, considered her own opinion as of no importance. The man's conduct had, however, partly reassured her, for he made no advances; she did not know that he had, during several years spent in strenuous effort, carried her memory and a stolen photograph about with him.

      Had she been a free agent she might have been inclined to approve of Hilton Dane. She knew he was honest, resolute, and capable, while as regards physique, nature had treated him well; but as it was, and because there were no friends she could find an excuse for visiting, it appeared essential that he should be made to recognize that there could be no more than a mutual toleration between them. Miss Chatterton had just arrived at this conclusion when the man came toward her across the lawn. Again it struck her that the bronzed face beneath the straw hat was that of an honest man, and that the blue eyes had a kindly gleam in them; but she brushed such thoughts aside impatiently.

      "What