"Thank you, Uncle Sid." Then withdrawing his hand, he slipped it through the old man's arm.

Uncle Sid stopped abruptly and thrust the hand aside, giving Winston an initial push.

"Now you go along where you're wanted. These folks are just burstin'

full o' worship. It will do 'em good to let it out at a tin G.o.d, if they don't know any better. It's good for folks to worship somethin' besides themselves."

Through the long day that followed--it seemed long to Winston--Helen skilfully avoided him. Without seeming effort, she managed to be surrounded with others, giving Winston no word alone. Outwardly, she was her old buoyant self. Only to the keen eyes of Winston was her manner forced.

Towards night, Winston saw Helen and Uncle Sid standing together on one of the abutments of the dam. Without undue haste he joined them.

"Well, Helen, are you satisfied with the handiwork of your servant?"

"If you are my servant, why do you come into my presence without being bidden?"

"I asked my question first, and you haven't answered it."

"It strikes me that you are either presumptuous or hypocritical. Don't you think so, Uncle Sid?" She flashed her eyes toward Uncle Sid. There was a shade of annoyance in the look that she turned to Winston. "I believe you and Uncle Sid are fellow conspirators."

"Then I am not mistaken. You have avoided me today?"

"Suppose I have," she replied evasively.

"It's too late for that, Helen. You have given me rights and I claim them." Winston's voice was decided.

"You are harking back to barefoot rights. You perhaps remember that Uncle Sid said that these were only letters of introduction to shoes and stockings."

"Yes. And I humbly present them." Winston replied in the forced humor of Helen's words.

"But," protested Helen, "I have put away childish things, bare feet and all. See!" She thrust out a booted foot from beneath her skirt.

"That's only a boot, and I'm not in it."

"You're getting childish, Ralph, so you will have to go with the rest."

"I am willing, so long as I go with the foot."

Helen was walking slowly up the steep bank and through a thicket of scrubby pine. Uncle Sid had disappeared from sight. Winston laid a detaining hand on her arm.

"Wait, Helen, I have a great many things to say to you."

"This is a pleasure trip, Ralph. You can say things at the office." She turned and took a step forward, but only a step. Winston's hand was gentle but firm. Helen seated herself on a mat of pine needles. Her face was flushed with resentment. Was it resentment?

Winston noticed the heightened color. Its cause was a question with a doubtful answer, but he did not hesitate on that account.

"It's no use trying to deceive me, Helen. There is something troubling you, and seriously, too--"

"Suppose there is, may I not keep my troubles to myself if I choose?"

She tried to speak firmly and finally.

Winston continued with no resentment and with no vacillation.

"If you are troubled about any affairs of the company, I ought to know; you should not keep it from me. If it is personal, I have no intention of forcing your confidence. I only want to ask you one thing. Don't you believe that I am your sincere friend?"

Helen strove to conceal her agitation. She longed with all her heart to meet half way the open loyalty that was offered her. She longed to show him that she appreciated it, but--how could she be frank with him without disloyalty to Elijah? Elijah had forfeited her respect, but was he wholly to blame? He had absolved her from the obligations of friendship, but there were other obligations that she could not put aside. Together they had a.s.sumed business responsibilities, together they must meet them. She longed for Winston's advice, a.s.sistance, but how could she accept either without baring the secret shame that was festering in her heart? Strive as she would, she could not wholly control her voice.

"You have always been my friend, Ralph. Please try to believe that I appreciate it. You can't know what it means to me and I can't tell you.

Won't you trust me a little longer?" She tried to steady the deep black eyes that she raised to him.

Winston caught the hand that trembled on the matted needles.

"Always, Helen, always."

She gently withdrew her hand, rising to go.

"Thank you. You may not know what you are promising." There was a pathetic smile hovering over the trembling lips. "Let's stop where we are."

"No." Winston was standing beside her. "I know more than you think I do, Helen. Elijah Berl is a thief. You know it and I know it. He has involved you, in appearance at least. You are too honest, too loyal to leave him as he deserves to be left."

Helen rose to Elijah's defense.

"Not intentionally a thief, Ralph."

Winston's eyes flamed with indignation.

"He isn't an open, manly thief who steals and stands up to his act. He is a sneak who steals and unloads his punishment on others."

Winston's words smote hard. In no essential did they differ from those she had spoken to Elijah.

Winston waited for a moment, watching Helen's face.

"I know what you mean. He took the money from Mellin and appropriated it to his own use. He got you involved in the Pico deal. That isn't an open crime. It is a sneaking, cowardly crime, in that he is forcing you to bear a part of the odium."

Helen's voice faltered, but her eyes did not leave Winston's.

"That Pico business was begun before the Pacific failed. You are wrong there."

"I am not wrong," Winston burst in hotly. His indignation waxed against Elijah. "He is crooked from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet. So long as it was between himself and me I could stand it, but when it comes to you, I will endure it no longer. He will quit or I will break him. I can and I will."

"You don't know all, Ralph, or you wouldn't say that." Helen's voice was firmer.

"I do know all. Don't I know that he has given the company his note, or pretended to, and secured it by his stock?"

Helen's eyes were on Winston.

"Do you know this?" She was honestly in doubt. Perhaps Elijah had confided in Winston after all.

"I have not seen the papers, but I know Elijah Berl. He has stilled his conscience without surrendering, one iota, his purpose. This note and security are in his own hands. When it comes to the point, he will find a new way to quiet what he calls his conscience."

"You do not know all, Ralph. You are unjust. This has gone far enough--too far." Helen spoke coldly. She felt compelled to, against the pleadings of her heart. She turned and began to move away.