"Ah, a mystery! He is concealing something!" cried Miss Wayland.

Marsh directed a sharp glance at Boyd before answering. "I presume you refer to Constantine's sister; I was speaking generally--of course, there are exceptions. As a matter of fact, I wasn't exactly right when I said we had no white women whatever at Kalvik. Mr. Emerson doubtless has met Cherry Malotte?"

"I have," acknowledged Boyd. "She was very kind to us."

"More d.a.m.ning disclosures," chuckled Mr. Wayland. "Pray, who is she?"

"I should like very much to know," Emerson answered.

"Oh, delightful!" exclaimed Mildred. "First, a beautiful Indian girl; now, a mysterious white woman! Why, Kalvik is decidedly interesting."

"There is nothing mysterious about the white woman," said Marsh. "She is quite typical--just a plain mining camp hanger-on who drifted down our way."

"Not at all," Boyd disclaimed, angrily. "Miss Malotte is a fine woman;"

then, at Marsh's short laugh, "and her conduct bears favorable comparison with that of the other white people at Kalvik."

Marsh allowed his eyes to waver at this, but to Mildred he apologized.

"She is not the sort one cares to discuss."

"How do you know?" demanded Cherry's champion. "Do you know anything against her character?"

"I know she is a disturbing element at Kalviks and has caused us a great deal of trouble."

It was Boyd's turn to laugh. "But surely that has nothing to do with her character."

"My dear fellow"--Marsh shrugged his shoulders apologetically--"if I had dreamed she was a friend of yours, I never would have spoken."

"She is a friend," Emerson persisted doggedly, "and I admire her because she is a girl of spirit. If she had not been possessed of enough courage to disregard your instructions, I might have been forced to eject your watchman and take possession of one of your canneries."

"We can't entertain all comers. We leave that to Miss Malotte."

"And George Balt, eh?"

"Dear! dear!" laughed Miss Wayland. "I feel as if I were at a meeting of the Woman's Guild."

"In our business we must adhere to a definite policy," Marsh explained to the others. "Sometimes we are misjudged by travellers who consider us heartless, but we can't take care of every one."

"Not even your sick natives. Well, but for Miss Malotte some of your fishermen would have starved this winter, and you might have been short- handed next year."

"We give them work. Why should we support them?"

"I don't know of any legal reason, and ethics don't count for much up there. Nevertheless, Cherry Malotte has seen to it that the children, at least, haven't suffered. She saved a little brother of this Constantine you mention."

"Constantine has no brother," Marsh answered. "I happen to know, because he worked for me."

"This was a little red-headed youngster."

"Ah!" Marsh's e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n was sharp. "What was the matter with it?"

"Measles."

"Did it get well?"

"It was getting along all right when I left."

The other fell silent, while Miss Wayland inquired, curiously: "What is this mysterious woman like?"

"She is young, refined--thoroughly nice in every way."

"Good-looking also, I dare say?"

"Very."

She was about to pursue her inquiries further, but the dinner was finished and Mr. Wayland had asked for his favorite cigars, so she rose and Boyd accompanied her, leaving the others to smoke. But, strangely enough, Marsh remained in such a state of preoccupation, even after their departure, that Mr. Wayland's attempts at conversation elicited only the vaguest and shortest of answers.

In the music-room Mildred turned upon Boyd. "Why didn't you tell me about this woman before?"

"I didn't think of her."

"And yet she is young, beautiful, refined, lives a romantic sort of existence, and entertained you--" She tossed her head.

"Are you jealous?" he inquired, with a smile.

"Of such a person? Certainly not."

"I wish you were," he confessed, truthfully. "If you would only get really jealous, I should be delighted. I should begin to feel a little sure of you."

She seated herself at the piano and struck a few idle notes, inquiring, casually: "Kalvik is the name of the place where you are going, isn't it?"

"It is."

"I suppose you will see a great deal of this--Cherry Malotte?"

"Undoubtedly, inasmuch as we are partners."

"Partners!" Mildred ceased playing and swung about. "What do you mean?"

"She is interested in this enterprise; the cannery site is hers."

"I see!" After a moment, "Does this new affair of father's have any particular effect on your plans?"

"Yes and no," he answered, feeling again the weight of this last complication, forgotten for the moment.

"What do you wish me to do?"

"Nothing; only for the present please don't mention my scheme either to him or to Mr. Marsh. I am a bit uncertain as to my course. You see, it means so much to me that I can't bear to give it up, and yet it may lead to great--unpleasantness."

She nodded, comprehendingly.